The Aetheling
by K-yers
Summary: Augusta is the bastard daughter of King Ecbert. She's grown up knowing that she'll never inherit, but that hasn't stopped her from seeking knowledge and learning all she can, including knowledge about the Vikings across the sea. Eventual Ivar/OC. Mature scenes in later chapters!
1. 1: Arrival

The library was my favorite place in the castle. The scrolls were well cared for, having been translated and copied several times over in Latin, Frankish, and English. There were even a few scrolls written in the rough language of the Vikings across the sea. I had never seen the sea, but I had seen the Vikings.

I had been very young when the legendary Viking named Ragnar Lothbrok had come to Wessex. According to Father, the Viking king had sat me atop his shoulders, just to listen to my giggles.

Another Viking, a former monk called Athelstan, had been the one to put some of the harsh language into writing. It had explained a good amount of words, and some tips on how to pronounce others, but for the most part, my knowledge of the Northmen language was self taught. But thanks to him, I could learn these bits and pieces.

I had always been good at languages. I could speak four, if the Viking language was included. Mother had always said that my gift of learning was a blessing from God, and it became something Father echoed when he started to take notice.

Father had slept with my mother when she was no more than fifteen. I had been born in the dead of winter, daughter of a servant girl with no husband. By the time I was two years old, the whole castle knew who the father was. And Father had wasted no time bringing his bastard daughter into the castle, to be raised educated and proper, to save face.

The scroll was rough beneath my fingertips. I mouthed the foreign word, feeling it on my lips until I tried to pronounce it. It sounded weird to me, and I cleared my throat and tried again.

"Augusta?"

I looked up to see Averill enter, the castle's steward. He weaved the desks and shelves containing the scrolls until he stood in front of the desk I was at.

"Hello Averill," I greeted him, the sound of my own language feeling more natural than the harsh language of the Vikings. "What do you need?"

"Your half brother is demanding your presence." Averill replied. I bit the inside of my mouth. Always the need to bring up that he was a half brother. Averill looked down to the scrolls in front of me and blinked. "Funny you should be reading up on those."

"Why's that?" I asked, rolling the scrolls to put them back on their shelves.

Averill looked towards the door before leaning in. I followed suit, feeling a great stab of interest. "Ragnar Lothbrok has returned. He was just in the courtyard."

"Really?" I asked. "What's he doing back?"

"No one knows yet." Averill said. "Hurry and put those scrolls back. Prince Aethelwulf is not a patient man."

I hurried to put the scrolls back and then rushed out of the library to the Great Hall, where Aethelwulf was bound to be. On the way there, I couldn't help but notice how flustered and nervous the people of the court seemed to be.

Prince Aethelwulf was pacing in the Great Hall, his wife and sons watching. Judith noticed me first and left her sons to grab onto my hands.

"There you are, Augusta." Judith said. "Were you in the library?"

"I was." I replied. I looked past her to where Aethelwulf had stopped pacing. "Is it true? Ragnar Lothbrok was just in the courtyard?"

"He's in the dungeons now." Aethelwulf said grimly. "Until Father returns, that's where he'll remain. The cripple with him is closed off in seperate quarters."

I frowned as Judith and I went back into the center of the room where Aethelwulf had been pacing. "Cripple?" I asked.

"Ragnar wasn't alone." My half nephew, Aethelred said. "He had a cripple with him. Boy couldn't walk; we watched him drag himself to the gates."

Aethelwulf laughed loudly at it. "I can't _wait_ to hear why Ragnar was traveling with him. The rest of their raiding party has to be somewhere nearby. Until then, no one is to leave the castle, let alone Winchester."

Judith nodded in agreement, putting her hand to rest on her second son's shoulder. Alfred reached up and touched his mother's hand gently.

With no other orders to give, Aethelwulf dismissed us all. He started towards the dungeons to go question Ragnar, while Judith disappeared to take Aethelred and Alfred to more studies. I was only alone for a moment before starting up the stairs to where the guest compartments were.

It wasn't hard to find where this so called cripple was being held after that. There were two armed guards outside of the door, but it didn't look like they were taking their job seriously. Their swords were sheathed and they were leaning against the wall and cracking jokes. I left the hall before they noticed and went back downstairs.

Gerard was the castle's head cook and he was always happy to give extra plates to me. I passed a handful of gold coins into his palm and he made a plate of bread, pork links, and a pile of various greens. I also grabbed a flagon of wine and a couple of goblets. Gerard gave me an odd look but didn't question it when I slid him two more golden coins.

This time when I entered the hall, the guards snapped to attention. "Open the door." I commanded. The two of them glanced at each other and motioned with my full arms and hands. "It's food, not plans to take over the castle. Open the door."

The cripple was sitting on a chair in a corner of the room. He straightened when the door opened and completely stared at me in confusion when he saw me. I ignored him and finally set the food and drink down before taking a seat at the table in the center of the room. I glanced around, seeing a small bed in the corner of the room, and a small window overlooking the courtyard.

I had thought long and hard on my way up here, trying to remember how to pronounce everything. I cleared my throat loudly and said in what must've sounded like a terrible imitation of words, "They gave you a decent enough room, I suppose."

If he was looking at me before with confusion, this look was somewhere close to alarm. There was a long moment of silence until he said, "You know my language?"

I mentally congratulated myself for understanding him. "A little. Hard to learn when no one teaches you."

He tilted his head at me and slid out of his chair. I started to get up to help him but stopped myself when I saw him dragging himself across the floor, moving much faster than I thought he'd have been able to. I settled back down in my chair as he climbed and twisted himself onto the only other chair at the table. We now sat across from each other.

"Who are you?" He asked bluntly.

"My name is Augusta," I said, hoping I was saying everything right.

"Are you a slave?"

"No. My father is King Ecbert."

He blinked. "So you're a princess?"

I shook my head again. "I'm a bastard. My mother was a servant."

He nodded and finally looked away from me to the food in front of us. He pointed to it. "This is for me?" I nodded. He looked back to me with icy blue eyes. "I am Ivar, son of Ragnar Lothbrok."

I blinked. "Ragnar's son? Why'd you and your father come here?"

Ivar completely ignored my question by stuffing his face with food. I took the flagon and poured a goblet of wine for myself. Ivar followed suit once I was finished and he drank deeply until the entire goblet was drained.

"Why are you here?" Ivar countered when he finished. He had his ice blue eyes narrowed at me.

"I've never spoken to a Viking before." I replied. "Ragnar is under watch right now by nearly half the guard. It was easier to come up here and talk to you."

Ivar smirked. "I can tell you've never spoken to a Viking before. You keep messing up your words."

"Which ones?" I asked before I stop myself.

Ivar kept smirking and looked like he was trying not to laugh at me. "Your accent makes it hard to understand at times. When you first spoke, it sounded like you told me that the room was unfit."

I blinked and felt my face heat up. Ivar met my gaze, keeping his smile on his face. "You are really that worried about how you sound? Silly Christian." He shook his head and poured himself some more wine.

I hesitated, debating hard in my mind before speaking. "I'm not a Christian." I said to my goblet. Ivar looked up and stared, raising an eyebrow at me. I sighed heavily before drinking, figuring I might as well go ahead and tell him, seeing as it didn't matter anymore.

So I shrugged. "There is no God." I said. Ivar blinked at me. I met his gaze evenly and waited for him to say something.

"There are _gods_ ," He said, putting more emphasis on the plural word.

"Maybe for you." I said. "I grew up listening to how our God is all good and how He forgives your sins but-" I cut myself off and shook my head. Ivar watched me intently as I tried to pick out my words. "I am a bastard, Ivar. There's no other way around that fact. Because my father decided to sleep with a woman who is not his wife, _I'm_ the one who isn't forgiven by God. _I'm_ the sinful bastard, born out of disloyalty. That's how it's always been for me. If there really was a God, why would He say things like that? Why would He be so cruel?"

Ivar was still watching me with his intense blue eyes. I started to get uncomfortable, so I gestured to him with my goblet. "What about your people? How do you all treat bastards?"

"Whether a child is legitimate is neither here nor there." Ivar said almost immediately, finally breaking his stare. I frowned at his words. Ivar leaned forward on the table and moved the plate and two goblets and flagon around, grouping them all together in the center of the table. "If a man has four children, two by his wife and two by different slaves, all four children will get an equal piece of their father's land when he dies."

Ivar separated the plate, flagon and two goblets into four different areas, all of them being even. He looked back to me when he was done explaining. I nodded, understanding this type of succession. I looked back to him and said, "Here whoever is oldest gets everything."

"Then what does the younger ones get?"

"Titles usually. They'll still be important, but they wouldn't be king or lord or whatever their father's title is."

"You won't be a queen?"

"No. I'd be lucky to marry anywhere near that high. I've heard that Ragnar's a king; will you be king when he dies?"

Ivar's eyes turned dark for a moment and he paused before saying, "If Odin allows it."

I envied his faith in his gods. I leaned forward, taking my goblet back in the process. "Tell me more about your gods. Odin's one of them? What's he the god of?"

Ivar's eyes flashed brightly as he leaned forward too. I apparently found an interesting topic for him. "Odin is king. He travels the worlds, searching for knowledge. Once, he plucked out his own eye to gain knowledge of everything."

"If he scooped out his eye for knowledge of everything," I said, after taking a drink from the goblet. "Why does he continue searching the world for it?"

"There's always new knowledge, Augusta." Ivar said simply, his accent over pronouncing the individual syllables. I felt myself smile at the sound of it. Ivar stared at me for a moment before the corners of his mouth turned upwards too.

The door to the room swung open and one of the guards burst in. I leaned back in my chair, leaving Ivar continuing to be leaning forward. The guard looked between the two of us before his hard gaze rested on me.

"Your presence is being requested by Princess Judith, Augusta." The guard said, his voice sounding clipped. "You might want to go to her."

I looked at Ivar, who met my gaze, having not understood what the guard had just said. I sat the goblet down. "It seems I must leave you, Ivar. But know that this conversation has been the best I've had in a long time."

Ivar stared at me as I stood up and left the room, and even after I left the room I could still feel his ice blue gaze on my back.


	2. 2: Laughter

Until King Ecbert returned, Ragnar Lothbrok was kept under lock and key. Aethelwulf was going to wear holes in the floor, seeing how much pacing he was doing. My half brother started locking himself away with some advisors, all while waiting for Father to come back.

Ivar was pleasant enough company. He still made fun of my accent and the way I pronounced majority of words, but every now and then he seemed to take pity on me and correct me. He also liked to tell me stories about his gods. They sounded grand and larger than life, but then, so did stories about the Christian God.

I tried to meet up with Ivar at least once a day; no one else was. Every time I went, I made sure to bring him food. Aethelwulf had only allowed meals to be going to Ivar twice a day, so I timed it to show up once in the afternoon.

On the fourth visit, he asked, "Why do you keep coming to visit? Does your brother send you?"

"No." I replied. "I'm not sure if he even knows about it."

Ivar stared at me for a moment before asking again. "Why do you keep coming to visit?"

"I like talking to you," I said with a shrug. "There's no one else to talk to around here. That, and I get good practice speaking your language. Who knows when it'll come in handy? Maybe one day I'll be attacked by Vikings and need to negotiate my way out of it."

Ivar snorted in response at that and went back to eating the bread I had brought.

In truth, something told me that Ivar and I were similar. Although he never said it, I could sense that the subject of his legs were constantly on the back of his mind. Every now and then when we didn't speak, he got this troubled look on his face as he looked downward.

He was son of Ragnar, I remembered. From what I heard about his world, they valued strength. Surely he had some trouble back home. That was why I never brought it up. If Ivar wanted to talk about it, then I'd let him be the one to start that conversation.

Father returned on the fifth day of the two Vikings being here. I watched from the courtyard as Aethelwulf approached him and quickly told Father something. Father recoiled briefly before almost sprinting into the castle. I watched him go for a moment before deciding that I'd rather not miss this.

Judith was sitting by herself in the Great Hall when I arrived. She looked up when I arrived, hope etched across her face. But it quickly vanished when she saw it was me. I tried not to let that sting; she had been waiting for Father.

I walked over and silently sat beside Judith, on the side she had brushed all of her hair onto. She had lost that ear when I was about two years old, right after Alfred was born. That had been before I living in the castle. We weren't waiting for long when the doors opened again and Father returned, followed by Averill and a couple other stewards.

"Bring the long table in here." He was saying. Judith and I stood up as Father continued directing the stewards. "Yes. And alert the kitchens to make a five course meal I should say. Poor man has barely been fed." He dismissed the stewards and finally looked over to where Judith and I stood.

"Ah," Father said, spreading his arms. "Judith," He greeted his daughter-in-law first, embracing her and kissing her forehead hard. I shifted on my feet as they reunited and waited silently for him to notice me. And then, finally, "Augusta." He embraced me quickly before releasing.

Father looked me up and down for a moment. "I understand you've been visiting the cripple?"

I blinked. I guessed that Aethelwulf must've known about the daily meetings with Ivar. I shifted on my feet again. "His name is Ivar."

Father shrugged. "Why did he come with Ragnar? Has he told you where the rest of their raiding party is?"

I shook my head. "He hasn't said anything about that."

"Then what are you both talking about?" Father asked, now frowning. "Your half brother said that you've seen him everyday."

I nodded slightly; that answered my question. "I've been learning the Northmen's language. Talking to one of them helps a lot."

Father smiled. "Always hunting knowledge, you are. Very well. If you ladies will excuse me, I must see to the kitchens. I hope they're cooking up something spectacular." He kissed Judith's forehead again before sweeping from the Great Hall.

Judith was smiling after him. "It's so good that your father's returned." She said. I made a small noise of agreement, trying to drown the new sting of rejection.

King Ecbert had never been affectionate, or even warm with me. He had acknowledged me as his bastard daughter when I was two and only after word got out that my mother, Constance, had been with him. And even then, I hadn't been brought to the castle to live like this until I was seven years old.

Constance had died when a plague swept through the city of Winchester. She had fallen ill almost as soon as the plague hit, and the next thing I knew, she laid down in bed and never got up. Constance's friend had found me a few days later, half starved and sitting at the foot of my mother's bed. When the winter's plague ended, King Ecbert had been told of everyone who had died, Constance included. I lived with my mother's friend for a fortnight before King Ecbert sent for me to come to the castle to stay.

He gave me an education, let me sit at his table along with his trueborn son and their family, gave me quarters to live in and for the most part, left me alone. He left me alone a bit too well. It was as if I had contracted the winter's plague from Constance, even after all these years.

Father had treated me like this for eleven years. And yet, it still hurt every time it happened.

When I went to visit Ivar a few hours later, the guards outside weren't there. I blinked and went inside the unlocked room; Ivar wasn't there either. Had something happened? Father had said he would be dining with Ragnar, maybe Ivar had been invited down too?

I decided to wait to see what happened. I sat in my usual spot and I was only there for almost a half hour before the door swung open. The two usual guards entered with Ivar slung between them. Only one of the guards noticed me and held onto Ivar, but the other didn't and dropped Ivar. Ivar gave a loud yelp of pain at one shoulder staying steady while most of his body weight dropped.

I stood up, anger flaring inside of me quickly. "What d'you think you're doing?" The second guard put Ivar down more gently. Ivar wrenched himself out of his grasp the moment he could and crawled towards his usual chair.

"Stupid fucking Saxons," He was grumbling as he heaved himself into the chair.

"Apologies," The second guard said, not sounding sorry at all. The first muttered an apology too and left the room, shaking his head. His companion followed suit, the back of his neck a burning red.

I sat back down. "Do they always throw you around like that?" I asked without thinking.

Ivar shrugged, his face still red. "It doesn't matter. My brothers do similar things back home."

"Why don't you tell me about your brothers?" I suggested. "You haven't told me about them yet."

"They are brothers." Ivar said. "You have one. I have four, if you include Bjorn. He's much older; about seventeen years older than me."

"Bjorn," I repeated the name, trying to get it right. Ivar looked at me and actually smirked.

"Bjorn is by my father's first wife." Ivar explained. "The rest of my brothers are all by my mother, Aslaug." Like with Bjorn's name, I repeated Aslaug's. I wanted to get their names right. Ivar smiled again. "There is Ubbe, who is maybe five years older than me. Hvitserk, who is three years. And Sigurd, he's just one year."

I shook my head with a slight smile. "I know Aethelwulf is twenty-four years older than I."

Ivar let out a small huff that might've been an excuse for laughter. "He had a family already?" He asked. I nodded.

"A wife and son." I replied. "My nephew, Aethelred is a year older than me. What about you? You said that, uh-Bjorn, was it?-he's seventeen years older than you. Does he have children?"

"Three that are his," Ivar held up three fingers. "And one who was his wife's before she married him. She has a son from her first marriage, Bjorn has a daughter from his first marriage, and then they had two sons together."

I tilted my head slightly. "Did their previous spouses die?"

"Torvi's husbands both died." Ivar said, rolling his eyes up like he was trying to remember. "And Bjorn's first wife just left. I don't remember her though. I was very little."

I frowned and thought for a moment. "How old are you, Ivar?"

"Sixteen,"

"I'm eighteen."

Ivar shrugged. "Good to know, I suppose." He paused and studied me for a long moment. "I like talking to you, Augusta. You're easy to talk to."

I straightened and held my head a little higher. "Why thank you." I said. Ivar took in my posture and snorted out a loud laugh.

He waved a hand out at me. "Calm down. It wasn't that much of a compliment." But I just kept my back painfully straight as Ivar shook his head and huffed in amusement at me. He didn't have a true laugh it seemed; he usually just huffied loudly or let out sharp barks of laughter. I decided to make him laugh for true before he and Ragnar eventually left this place.


	3. 3: Goodbye until Tomorrow

The next day, King Ecbert decreed that Ragnar Lothbrok would be sent to Northumbria to King Aelle to die. I had been standing in court when I heard the news, and for a moment it seemed like all of the air of the Great Hall left.

But then someone from the back let out a long exhale, and the rest of us breathed with him.

I didn't go to visit Ivar that day. Father had pulled me aside after he announced to the court what he planned to do. "I don't want you to see that cripple today." Father told me. "I'd rather him hear about Ragnar from Ragnar."

I nodded at that; it made sense to me. One thing didn't though. "His name is Ivar, Father." I said.

Father nodded jerkily and waved his hand, as if he was swatting away a fly. "Yes, Ivar." He repeated before patting my shoulder and walking over to Aethelwulf and other members of court. Something told me that he'd go right back to calling Ivar "the cripple" within the hour.

I ended up seeing Ivar anyway later that day. I was on my way to the library when I rounded a corner and found the same two guards with Ivar slung between them. They were both red faced and sweating; they must've already hauled him over here from Ivar's quarters.

Ivar spotted me immediately and his blue eyes lit up. "Augusta!" He exclaimed. "Ask them where they're taking me. They haven't told me anything."

The guards didn't stop moving for us to have a full conversation. "We have to keep moving, my lady." He said through gritted teeth. He looked tired from dragging Ivar around.

"Are you taking him to Ragnar?" I asked him. Ivar didn't understand my question, but he understood his father's name. As the three of them passed me, the friendly guard nodded to me.

I exhaled sharply and followed them around the corner. "They're taking you to Ragnar, Ivar." I called to him. Ivar struggled to look at me over his shoulder, his eyes wide. "They're taking you to your father."

"Thank you, Augusta!" Ivar shouted over his shoulder. One of the guards flinched slightly due to Ivar yelling in his ear, and started to move faster. I waited until they were gone before turning back around slowly and continuing to the library.

Once I was inside the library, I let myself relax. Here, surrounded by scrolls and the smell of old paper, I felt the tension that had built up in my shoulders release. I wandered through the shelves, letting my eyes scan the labels someone before me had made, until I found the handful of scrolls we had on the Vikings language.

Carefully, so that I wouldn't damage them, I removed them from the shelf and took them to my usual table. All the other tables were covered in a sad layer of dust, but not this one. I unrolled the first scroll slowly, reading over the sentences and translations written here by Athelstan several years ago, before I was born. I know that Father had gone through these scrolls once, a long time ago, but I didn't think that he still went through them.

I held down the scroll with two books, seeing where Athelstan had left off. I swallowed, thinking over all of the things Ivar had taught me simply by talking to me. I picked up the quill pen and dipped it into the bottle of ink, pausing for a moment to let the excess drip off.

With a steadying exhale to calm what nerves I had left, I put the quill to the brittle paper and started to write. My hand was rather steady, and I made sure to write larger than usual. This kept the writing easier to read, especially for people who knew nothing about the subject matter. This was just one of the things I had learned from visiting the library. Averill was the one in charge of making sure everything in here was kept clean and orderly, and he had been the first to tell me.

"If you ever decide to contribute to the library," Averill had said back when I was no more than nine years old. "Make sure you write everything nice and large, that way someone a hundred years from now can still read what you wanted to say."

I made sure to include the words Ivar had taught me how to say, like Saxon and food and bastard. Athelstan had written down the sentence structure and some of the most used words like ale and ships and the sea. I just wanted to add to what Athelstan had started.

When I finished the rest of that scroll, I put the quill back and sat back, sighing. The sound of footsteps came from my right and I turned to see Alfred there.

"What were you writing?" Alfred asked.

I gestured to the small pile of scrolls. "These are all the scrolls we have on the Viking language. I'm just adding what Ivar taught me."

"So that's his name?" Alfred replied, coming forward and taking a seat beside my desk. "I've only heard grandfather and father call him the cripple."

"He's my friend," I said with a bit more sharpness than I meant. "I mean, I think we're friends."

Alfred blinked. "It's good that you made a friend, Augusta. Though I don't think Ivar will be staying for long."

"I know."

"I overheard Father and Grandfather talking. Grandfather's saying that he's planning on sending him away as soon as possible." Alfred said. "Maybe tomorrow."

I blinked. "That soon?" Alfred nodded again and shrugged.

"Father thinks he's dangerous," Alfred said, leaning forward a little. "Is he? You've spent the most time with him."

I shook my head. "I don't think he's dangerous. Angry perhaps, but not dangerous." Why would Aethelwulf think that, I wondered. I asked Alfred this same question, and my adopted nephew shrugged.

"I honestly can't think of why." He said thoughtfully. He frowned slightly. "Grandfather always tells me to have an open mind and look at each new challenge from different viewpoints. Maybe Father just sees something that no one else has yet?" He paused and looked again to the handful of scrolls. "May I read those? I think I'd like to learn their language too."

I smiled and moved my chair aside so that Alfred could share the desk with me. I handed him the first scroll, the one that Athelstan, Alfred's own birth father, wrote. Alfred took the scroll carefully, gently, and unrolled it to read.

Alfred was easy to teach, all things considering. He already knew Latin, as he had learned it when he was rather young. I knew for a fact that Father made sure that Alfred was kept up to date on learning the language of the Pope.

By the time we stopped reading and reading the scrolls, it was almost sundown. Alfred helped me put the scrolls back, and we walked together to the dining hall where dinner would be held.

Alfred was good company. He was smart, and very even tempered. I had once heard Father say that that was his father, Athelstan influencing him from Heaven. I couldn't help but wonder if that was true.

* * *

After dinner, I quickly moved to Ivar's quarters. Surely he had to be done with his meeting with Ragnar by now. The usual two guards weren't there; there were two different guards there tonight. I got past them and entered Ivar's room.

"Augusta," Ivar greeted me. I sat down in my chair and waited patiently for Ivar to drag himself from his bed to his chair, taking the spot across from me. "You didn't come when you usually do."

"I knew about the meeting with Ragnar." I replied. "And I was told by King Ecbert to not visit and tell you."

Ivar blinked. "You're here now." He said. I nodded after a pause. Ivar tilted his head slightly. "It's good that you came. I've been getting too used to seeing you every day."

I sighed. "You're being sent home soon. It's something I heard from Alfred." Ivar frowned slightly and I explained. "Alfred's my nephew, technically. His mother is Princess Judith-my half brother's wife. Alfred's father was Athelstan, though. Did you know Athelstan?"

Ivar shook his head. "I only know Athelstan through stories." He paused. "What happened to your mother, Augusta? You speak about King Ecbert, but not your mother."

"My mother was named Constance." I said quietly. "She was a servant who laid with Father once. That was enough for her to become pregnant with me. Constance raised me as well as she could, being on her own and all. She died when I was seven; a winter plague came in and just-" I waved one hand through the air. Ivar followed my hand with his eyes before looking back to my face. "The sickness just went right through her. I was half dead when they found me. And after King Ecbert discovered Constance was dead, he sent for me to come live here in the castle. And I've been here ever since."

Ivar was silent for a long moment after I finished. "I am sorry to hear about your mother. She sounded like a strong woman."

I had rarely, if ever, heard someone praise my mother. Usually when people referred to her, they referred to her as the servant who had bedded the king and had his bastard. Everyone praised King Ecbert for not giving her special treatment once he knew that she had given him a daughter. Ivar's words made me smile, and I fought the burn that seemed to happen immediately in my eyes.

Ivar and I sat in silence for a while before he said, "I know that your father is sending my father to his death." I looked up and stared at Ivar, who was staring back with blank blue eyes. "When I go back to Kattegat, my brothers will hear, and they'll want revenge. There will be fighting, Augusta, I can promise you that."

"What are you trying to tell me?" I asked.

"I am trying to warn you." Ivar said, more firmly. "When we return, I want you to be ready. I don't want you dead. You're kind to me, and I think we have grown close, don't you think?" I nodded and he repeated the action. "Then promise me something before I go home, Augusta. Promise me that if we come back to England with an army, you'll be smart." He paused.

I looked into his eyes and finally nodded. "I promise, Ivar."

He leaned back and looked to relax. I leaned back as well, having not noticed that we had both leaned forward.

* * *

The next day, I had just gotten dressed for the day and left my room when I run into Averill. I gave the steward a smile and he frowned at me.

"Augusta?" He said. "I would've thought you'd be in the courtyard already."

I blinked. "Why do you say that?"

"They're sending the cripple away." Averill replied casually.

"They're taking him away now?" I asked, my voice accidentally going shrill. Averill blinked in surprise and nodded. I hurried to my feet and rushed past him. "Thank you for telling me, Averill!" I called over my shoulder.

It was a long way from my rooms to the courtyard. I wouldn't make it in time to say goodbye if Ivar was already in the courtyard. I made it as far as the second floor balcony overlooking the courtyard before I stopped to catch my breath.

On the outside, a small crowd had gathered. I stepped onto the balcony and looked over the edge. Father wasn't out there, but I spotted Judith standing with Aethelred and Alfred, accompanied by their guards. Other onlookers were just random villagers who lived in the city of Winchester. And then out came two guards, Ivar slung between them.

Ivar was hoisted into the cart, not unkindly either. He had enough time to rearrange himself before Alfred moved to him and handed him something. I watched from the balcony as Alfred went back to his mother's side and Ivar watched him leave, turning over the item in his hand over and over.

There was a moment where I watched Ivar's eyes scan the crowd of people gathered around him. It only took him a minute to find me standing on the second floor balcony. We locked eyes with each other and for a long moment we just stared at each other.

He had become a friend within the span of a week. And now he was being sent back to his home, possibly to never come back. There was a lot I wanted to tell him, to thank him for helping me and listening to me.

I was going to miss him, I realized.

Ivar raised his free hand slowly, and waved it slightly. I smiled slightly and waved back. Down below, I saw Ivar return my smile.

The cart gave a jerk and started to leave the courtyard. Ivar's hand snapped down so that he could keep himself steady, but he turned back to watch me as the cart pulled farther away. He didn't turn away until the cart reached the gate and disappeared from sight.


	4. 4: The Proposal

Two weeks later, it was Ragnar Lothbrok's turn to be sent away. I was actually told this time that we were sending a Viking away, and I was able to stand in the courtyard beside Alfred as Ragnar was led to the cage on the cart.

Ragnar was nothing like I had remembered him. He was bald with faded tattoos covering his scalp. His beard had grown out though, reaching down to his broad chest. Even though he looked tired and older from his three weeks in the dungeons, he looked like he could still snap a man's neck with his bare hands. Perhaps that was why he was being escorted by ten guards, all pointing spears at the Viking.

Ragnar went willingly enough into the cage, giving King Ecbert a quick glance before doing it. King Ecbert looked like he was fighting to keep his face stoic. As the rain poured down on everyone, some of it splashed onto our faces; the perfect disguise for the tears that were somehow on my father's face.

Once the cage was locked and the guards got into position to ride alongside it, Ragnar met Father's eyes and held them, his ice blue gaze giving nothing away. After a moment, Ragnar looked from Father to Aethelwulf to Judith to their children and then to me.

He blinked and tilted his head slightly at me, recognition in his face. I held his gaze until he looked away, preferring to look at his bare feet instead of any of the Saxons he was facing.

When the cart and guards left, Father wasted no time leaving the rain soaked courtyard. There wasn't much of a pause before the rest of the royal family followed suit. I followed after them, pulling my hood farther down to better shield my face from the rain.

Once back inside the castle, Father was quick to disappear. Aethelwulf rushed after him, and Judith hesitated for a moment before going after him. I watched them go, feeling sort of powerless to try and figure out what they were planning. From beside me, Alfred and Aethelred looked about as lost as I did.

Father was very withdrawn for the rest of the day and evening. And the next morning, he wasn't seen at all. Judith was mostly tearful, and nothing her sons said to her could make her cheerful again.

Aethelwulf seemed to take a new level of stress. He locked himself in a council room surrounded by advisors. For most of these meetings, he brought Aethelred and Alfred in with him. I tried to follow them, but Aethelwulf turned me away with a sympathetic shake of his head. It didn't matter anyway; Alfred would come and tell me most of what happened in those meetings anyway.

"Mostly they're all talking about how the Vikings will most likely attack." Alfred explained one afternoon in the library. "Lord Stilwell believes that Ivar will report to his people that King Ecbert was the one who killed Ragnar Lothbrok. And that they'll retaliate by coming after King Ecbert and King Ecbert alone."

I shook my head. "I _told_ Ivar that King Aelle would be the one. Surely he would-" I cut myself off and heaved a sigh. I hadn't really known Ivar that well, not as well as I wanted to, maybe. "Never mind that." I locked eyes with my nephew. "Alfred, all I know about the Vikings, is that when they attack, they're going to leave destruction in their wake."

Alfred sighed as well. "Are you sure you haven't been sitting in on those meetings, Augusta?"

* * *

Father returned almost a month later, having walked all the way to and from Northumbria. He summoned the family into the throne room and, upon arriving, I saw that he hadn't bathed or made himself decent yet. King Ecbert was sitting on his throne in soiled traveler's clothes, looking like he hadn't slept in a week.

Alfred entered the room and stood at my side, looking up at his grandfather nervously. When the whole family had entered the room, King Ecbert seemed to deflate.

"My family," He said, sounding like he was trying not to let his voice shake. "I've had a lot of time to think about you all on my recent journey north. I followed behind the caravan escorting Ragnar Lothbrok to King Aelle. And I...I watched him be executed. He was a Viking yes, but he had a good heart. He did many terrible things to both Northumbria and to Wessex, but I personally do not think he deserved to be slaughtered the way he was."

Hardly anyone was breathing. Father looked at everyone in turn before continuing. "It's getting colder, and that means the Viking will not attack. Not until the seas are calm and the air is warm and the weather permits travel. We are safe for now, but come summer or even spring, they will land on the shores of Northumbria and there's no doubt in my mind that Ragnar Lothbrok's sons will march south to Wessex."

Aethelred took a tentative step forward. "Grandfather, how can we be sure? What if the Vikings stay in Northumbria for their revenge?"

Father smiled and shook his head. "Because once they're here, they will see the opportunity to come farther south. And I'm sure the cripple has spoken of me to his people. The time is now to prepare for war, to make secure alliances to stand against the war to come."

Father turned his tired and narrowed gaze on me. "How old are you again, Augusta?"

I ignored the sting that hit directly in my chest and answered, "Eighteen, Father."

"Hm," He said, his brow furrowed. It looked like he was in deep thought. Judith was watching him intently, while Aethelwulf was staring hard at him. For a long moment, we stood in silence as Father mulled things over in his head. But then, "I think it's time I made a match for you."

My breath caught unexpectedly in my throat and I found myself just staring at him. What did he…? He had never shown interest in marrying me off until now. Father looked at everyone's expressions and snorted slightly.

"Did you all expect Augusta here to remain unmarried?" He asked. "She may not be in the line of succession, but she is still my daughter. Perhaps a Duke from Northumbria." He paused when he saw the look on Aethelwulf's face. "Or even someone here in Wessex, so that she can stay close to home."

"Why now, Father?" I asked suddenly, not thinking about what I was saying. There was a certain edge in my voice.

Father shrugged slightly. "Let us not dance around the subject, anyone. Ragnar Lothbrok is dead, and his sons have already begun war plans most likely. The cripple would've gotten back to their home by now. When the Northmen bear down on us, we'll need all the strength we can get. A marriage union, is the perfect way to solidify that alliance. Augusta, you are well read, pleasant to look upon, and the daughter of a king."

"A bastard daughter," I said softly. I would've been surprised if anyone had heard me, but Alfred gave me a sympathetic look and Judith shook her head slightly.

Father smiled slightly. "The bastard daughter of a king." He gave another smile to everyone in the room, to which no one returned. Father looked between to Aethelwulf and myself. "I'll begin proposing Augusta to some potentials who are appropriate for her status."

I chewed on the inside of my mouth for a long time, silently stewing in this new development. Father excused himself soon after that, to go to his baths and make himself presentable. I glared at his form as he left, feeling the bubble of unfairness and frustration rise inside my chest with nowhere to escape.

Later that evening, I paced around my quarters, knowing full well that Father was most likely already writing out my dowry that second. I may be a bastard, but I was still his daughter and that in itself was desirable. King Ecbert was a powerful man, and even a Duke or a third born son could profit from marrying a king's bastard.

There was a small knock at my door and I opened it to reveal Judith standing there. We stared at each other for a brief moment before my sister-in-law took a step forward and embraced me. I quickly hugged her back, burying my face into her shoulder. Judith held me as my body spasmed and I felt her hand rub my back gently.

"You'll be fine, Augusta." Judith was saying into my ear. "Marriage isn't as bad as it looks."

"You got lucky," I said through a mouthful of hair. Judith let out a small huff of laughter and squeezed me a little tighter before letting go. She rubbed my arms for a brief moment while smiling kindly. Tears were sparkling in her eyes.

"I'll probably be with both your father and brother while they decide." Judith told me. "I'll make sure that you end up with someone nice."

"Thank you for that." I said, heaving a sigh. "That's all you can hope for, right?"

Judith gave me a smile that didn't meet her eyes and she nodded before bidding me goodnight and taking her leave. I closed the door after her and sat down against it, not able to fully describe the newfound fear that was growing in my chest.


	5. 5: Winter

Finding a marriage match turned out to take much longer than I had originally thought. It had already been two months since Father had decided to marry me off to someone, and in that Father had managed to narrow his options down to a couple of potential husbands.

The first was a lord from Wessex named Pierce of Dornsaete. I vaguely remembered the name, and I had actually met him once or twice before when he came to visit Father for whatever business he needed. This Lord of Dornsaete, from my memory, was about twenty-seven years older than I with a large belly, if I recalled correctly. When I questioned Judith about him later, my sister-in-law had only shrugged and said that what she knew of him, he enjoyed throwing feasts and drinking and enjoyed watching tournaments.

"He'd turn you into a very fat wife," Judith said then with a slight giggle.

Another prospect was King Aelle's younger cousin, a lord of his own estate and town by the sea named Kenton, Duke of Bamburgh. Judith had a lot of information about this one.

"He's only ten years older than you, Augusta." She confided to me. "He is handsome enough, I suppose. He has all of my father's looks but is more slim. At least he was when I saw him a few years ago."

"Is he nice?" I asked, not really caring how this stranger looked.

Judith shrugged. "He is nice enough. Sort of cold, distant. When I saw him last, he barely cracked a smile. But he rarely raises his voice, he's not unkind to his servants and others below his station, if that's what you mean."

Aethelwulf had been in the room, and upon hearing this, he snorted loudly. "He doesn't sound much like your father, my dear."

"He is like my father in small ways." Judith insisted. "They share a love for hawking, for traveling to other cities in Northumbria. Kenton knows how to appreciate a fine wine. He hates those Vikings, same as my father."

I blinked and Aethelwulf tilted his head in question. Judith continued. "Kenton's home is right on the coast; they're no stranger to Viking raids. In my father's last letter, he mentioned how Kenton's little city gets attacked by Vikings almost every year since they found our land."

Aethelwulf turned to me. "Well, you'll get a lot of practice with their language, Augusta." I laughed along with them but a weird knot formed in my belly at the thought of it.

The weather got colder as Christmas grew nearer. It never got cold enough in Winchester to snow, and it didn't snow where Pierce of Dornsaete lived either. It definitely snowed where Kenton, Duke of Bamburgh was at. I tried to imagine a snow covered city beside the ocean, and the mental image was enough to make me want to visit during the winter.

But then Viking attacks would happen almost every summer, a cruel voice whispered in my ear.

In late November, I was summoned to Father's private study. Had he finally decided who my future husband would be? I took my time going to his study and entered it slowly. Father looked up at my entrance and smiled.

"Augusta!" He exclaimed. "You'll be happy to know that I've finally made a proper match for you. I figured you'd want to be the first to know."

The ability to swallow was suddenly gone, so I just nodded. It felt as though clawed hands were clenching at my stomach and their grip just kept tightening. Father sat back down on his comfy looking chair and handed a rolled scroll to me. I gingerly took it and unrolled it, trying not to take notice of my shaking hands.

"It's Kenton," Father said after a minute of me staring at the words on the paper. "We have agreed upon a dowry worthy of you and you'll be married in January. This gives us enough time to go through Christmas celebrations and then make the proper preparations for the wedding."

"January?" I echoed, my voice cracking. "That...that feels really soon."

"Yes, January. Kenton has a good sized army, who know exactly how to fight the Vikings, and how the Vikings fight. He's promised a portion of this army to come here to defend Wessex and to train my own army how to fight against Vikings." Father took the scroll back from me. I buried my hands into my skirts, trying to hide my shaking hands even more. "The sooner you two are married and the sooner his army marches south, the better."

When I didn't answer right away, Father stared at me for a long moment before sighing. "I understand you're not thrilled about this union, Augusta. No one is ever thrilled for arranged marriages. My own marriage wasn't wanted in the beginning."

I looked up at him and saw that Father was staring past me, his eyes lost in memory. "When I met Rowena, I didn't want to marry her. I was young, she was older than I. But my own father saw something in the match before I did. Rowena and I were, formal to say the least, for the first few years. But then she gave me Aethelwulf."

Father stopped and smiled softly. "Rowena loved our son so much. When I saw her care for him, and love him, I fell for her almost instantly. And I loved her, even after she left our world for Heaven." He finally looked back to me, a sad smile on his face. "I imagine it'll be similar for you and Kenton. It's how majority of matches go."

I had never heard this about Aethelwulf's mother before. I couldn't help but stare at King Ecbert; this was the most open he had ever been with me.

"Do you…" I started slowly. "Do you feel that way about Judith?"

Father's smile didn't leave his face. "I believe so. Judith, in a way, understands me more than Rowena had in the beginning."

I immediately regretted the next question that sprang to my lips. "What about my mother? Constance?"

Father's smile disappeared and he locked eyes with me. "I won't lie to you, Augusta. What I felt for Constance was much closer to lust than love. I believe it was the same for her as well."

That was wrong. Growing up, I had heard Constance speaking of King Ecbert with bitterness. She had really admired him, maybe had even loved him. But she definitely didn't while she was raising me.

"If there is one thing you must learn, my dear Augusta," Constance had once told me when I was seven, just months before she died. "It's that you mustn't give all of your heart to one person, not all at once. People are unpredictable; they can hurt you at a moment's notice."

My mother had been very smart, and it took a king leaving her behind for her to learn this lesson. I thanked Father for telling me who my husband would be and took my leave, thinking of Constance and what she would've thought of everything happening to me now.

As it got closer to Christmas, the busyness of the season was doubled, as Kenton wrote to Father and me that he would be coming for the holiday and staying until the wedding ceremony. Averill was beside himself, putting every servant on double duty to sweep and dust and mop the castle until it shone. Two handmaids were given to me from Father.

"To help prepare you for your marriage and life in Bamburgh." Father explained. "They're to help you in the ways of womanhood and to be your company from here on out."

I couldn't help but feel as the three handmaids sent to me were unnecessary though. I had spent majority of my life being by myself. Suddenly having three strange women follow me around everywhere grew tiring fast.

The women were close enough to my own age and only one was married. Alberta was the eldest and she was married to a foot soldier in Father's army. "Of course he'll be swearing allegiance to your husband once you are married, my lady." Alberta explained when I pointed this out. "My darling Heward is looking forward to seeing the sea for the first time."

Moira was about twenty one and looking for a husband. "My father had wanted to marry me off to a guard or a steward, but my mother convinced him to wait." She told me one afternoon as she spent almost ten minutes brushing my hair out. "

The last was Cecily and she was just sixteen. She was also the one who came from the least amount of money. I had no idea how Father found her as a handmaid, but the younger girl was quiet, didn't speak unless I spoke to her directly, and made a conscious effort to hide the bruises that ringed her arms.

All three ladies were suddenly with me at all times, preparing baths, helping me get dressed, and teaching me how to play card games. The only time I was ever alone now was when I hid myself in the library. I wanted to copy down my notes on the Northmen language and I couldn't do that with the three of them chattering like birds.

A few days before Christmas, Kenton finally arrived, bringing with him the portion of Viking fighting soldiers with him. I stood outside in the courtyard with the rest of the royal family, shaking in the cold and trying not to look half as scared as I felt.

Kenton, Duke of Bamburgh was tall and slim with coal black hair and eyes that, at a distance, looked to be black. His beard was freshly trimmed, and he had made sure to be dressed nicely for the meeting of King Ecbert.

And his new wife, that cruel and snide voice hissed in my ear. I let out a shuddering breath, trying my hardest to expel the negative thoughts in my head. Judith glanced at me and I felt her hand brush against the back of mine.

Father and Kenton greeted each other briefly before Father turned and started towards me.

Instantly, countless fear-filled thoughts went through my head. It felt as if my heart was in my throat and it got very hard to breathe all of a sudden. My mind started screaming at me to start running, running inside to hide, run outside the gates to leave Winchester entirely. I had no idea where I could even go if I did run. To Northumbria? That was a joke. Father was suddenly in front of me and I barely heard him say my name. Out of sheer instinct, and a good amount of fear, I bent my knees and went into a proper curtsey to greet my soon to be husband.

When I stood back up, I forced myself to look at the duke in the face. Kenton's eyes were dark brown, and they were glancing around my face. I straightened myself up and said the proper greeting, my mouth feeling dry. Was there a ringing in my ears?

Kenton suddenly stooped into a slight bow. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Augusta." He extended his hand and I took it, forcing myself not to shudder when he briefly brought it to his lips. When he dropped my hand, I tucked it back into my other hand.

"Come!" Father suddenly shouted. "Let us go inside and feast! Kenton, you must tell me more of your journey south." Father took the lead and Kenton took a step after him but paused and looked back to me. With feet that felt full of lead, I let him take my arm and lead me back inside the castle, my handmaidens following behind me.

* * *

Kenton and I weren't allowed to be alone in a room together, as tradition said. Usually Father or Aethelwulf were present whenever Kenton and I were made to be together. The entire time Kenton wouldn't touch me unless it was absolutely necessary and he only seemed to ask very basic questions and gave very curt answers.

Did he even want to get married? Had he wanted to marry a bastard? I knew that I was particularly bad at making small conversation, but Kenton was possibly worse than me at it. But I honestly couldn't tell whether it was out of awkwardness or dislike of me.

On Christmas day, Alberta and Cecily managed to get me into a particularly unpleasant red gown with gold trim. I thanked them after they were done pinning my dark hair up on the back of my head.

I sat between Kenton and Judith during Christmas dinner. Father and Kenton were speaking of the Vikings and when they would probably attack.

"I would say as soon as the ocean is calm again." Kenton was saying, his voice sounding like he had said this sentence a thousand times before. "Normally they stay away until the summer, but given what you've told me, they might be here much sooner than that."

"How many are usually in a raiding party?" Father asked, not knowing that he had gained my attention yet.

"However many it takes to man a ship." Kenton replied. "I've seen raiding parties as small as twenty. Those ones aren't much trouble, and they are what we've been getting for the longest time."

Aethelwulf was sitting right across from Kenton. "How often do you come in contact with them?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean like conversate with them." Aethelwulf explained.

"They don't speak my language, Prince Aethelwulf." Kenton said, a slight edge coming into his voice. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "Even if they did, I doubted they'd have anything I'd want to know."

Aethelwulf tilted his head at Kenton, his eyes bright with this confrontation. "Maybe Augusta could teach you then. She's fluent in their language, made friends with one of them."

I stared at Aethelwulf with wide eyes as Kenton turned to me. "How did you do that?" He asked. It was the first time he sounded interested in anything about me.

I cleared my throat slightly. "We have some scrolls in the library. I just learned the basics from them. But when Ragnar Lothbrok was held here, his son was also here and I spoke with him to get better."

Kenton was looking at me with a new light. "Interesting. Could you show me the scrolls?"

I nodded and Kenton did too before returning to his food. I shot Aethelwulf a pointed look and he looked smug, seeing as he got me and my soon to be husband to speak more than five words to each other. I blinked and tried not to smile thankfully at him.

After dinner, I led the way to the library, followed closely by Kenton and Alfred. Once inside, Alfred started to unroll some different scrolls he had wanted to study, and I showed Kenton the scrolls that Athelstan and I had written.

"I started copying them down." I said, showing him the newest scrolls. "So that I could bring the copies to Bamburgh with me. I still want to study them, there's still a lot I don't know."

Kenton finally tore his gaze from the scrolls to me. "This is incredible work, Augusta. Your father said that you were intelligent, but this…" His voice trailed off and he shook his head slightly. Then he looked back to me. "I think we'll be okay, Augusta. You and I."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I just nodded and looked back to the scrolls. Kenton helped me roll them back carefully before we left the library and he escorted me back to my chambers.


	6. 6: The Duke of Bamburgh

My wedding day was January tenth. All three of my handmaidens woke me up early to bathe me and help me dress into my white wedding gown. The sleeves were almost as long as my arms and would cover my hands if I let them. My long dark hair was brushed until it shone and curled and pinned behind my shoulders. All the while, I felt that fear I had first felt nest right in my stomach again.

The day went by in a haze. Kenton the Duke of Bamburgh and I knelt in front of the crucifix and recited after Edmund the priest in Latin. We drank from the same cup and a cold ring was put on my finger and suddenly we were married. When Kenton kissed me, it was light and brief and it made me more afraid of what would happen later.

"It just hurts a little and then it's over." Alberta had said dismissively when I had gathered enough courage to ask her about my marriage night.

I barely ate at the feast that night. Everything tasted of dust and with the way my stomach was rolling, I didn't think I'd be able to keep anything down if I had tried. Meanwhile Kenton was eating and drinking as if he wasn't bothered at all.

I was then brought back to the marriage chambers and my handmaidens helped me out of my gown and into a dressing gown. When they left, I climbed into the bed and waited for Kenton to hurry up and get this over with.

As I waited, my mind wandered. The icy rain beat against the window mercilessly. The weather would get warm in Winchester around April; when would it in Bamburgh? Kenton and Father had agreed that the Vikings would come when the weather was warm and seas were calm. When would that be exactly? Would Ragnar's sons be leading the Viking army? I would think so.

Would Ivar be leading them?

The door opened and closed with a snap and all thoughts of Vikings and Ivar snapped away with it.

Kenton walked into slowly, deliberately. He was drunk, I realized. Hadn't Judith said that he knew how to appreciate fine wine? Kenton peered at me, as if he was trying to figure me out.

Then he sighed. "Your father will be standing outside the door to make sure we consummated."

That made everything worse, I thought. I tried not to look uncomfortable as he climbed onto the bed with me. He looked at me for a long moment, holding the uncomfortable eye contact until he came forward and kissed me sloppily. I let him and tried to kiss back, closing my eyes because that's what happened in this situation, right?

Kenton gently put pressure on my shoulders and pushed me down so that I was laying on my back. I opened my eyes again as he undid himself and pulled the skirt of my dress up. I barely had time to count to three before he was suddenly inside of me.

I must've sounded like I was in pain because Kenton looked down to me. "Am I hurting you? Are you okay?"

"You're good, just hurry." I snapped without meaning to. Kenton didn't say anything else and continued, every movement he made felt like it was reaching deep inside me. He grinded his hips against me for a few more minutes before Kenton gasped loudly and I felt his seed spill. I closed my eyes as he withdrew himself and laid back down on his back beside me.

We laid in silence for a long moment, both of us breathing heavily, until we heard loud footsteps walking away from the door. I shook my head and let my head fall back onto the pillow.

Kenton was somehow asleep in minutes. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling and not sure what to do with myself now. I glanced at him, where his mouth was wide open and loud snores were bouncing around the walls.

I got out of the bed and walked towards the window, pulling a robe tight around me. The rain had calmed down some, but it was still raining rather hard. Somewhere farther north, this rain was snow instead. We'd be leaving to go to Bamburgh soon-maybe the next few days?-and I'd probably see snow then.

I sat by the window until my eyes couldn't stay open any longer. When I was good and tired enough, I got back into the bed and curled up, keeping my back to Kenton. If he woke up, I didn't want him to try again. Somehow, after what must've been an additional hour of laying there, I fell into a deep and dark sleep.

The next morning, a servant brought the bed sheets to Father. He quickly inspected the sheets and smiled when he found the spot of blood. I grabbed ahold of my skirts and said nothing, while Kenton had the dignity to look embarrassed for me.

A week later, all of my belongings were packed and we were to go to Bamburgh as husband and wife. There was another goodbye in the courtyard, and this time it only rained slightly.

Judith hugged me tightly. "I should come and visit, once you're all settled in. Would you like that?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Please as soon as you can."

Alfred was the next to say goodbye, and he hugged me even tighter than his mother. "I'll miss you, Augusta. I'll be sure to write you letters in Latin, just to practice."

Aethelwulf tried to be formal, but dragged me into his arms anyway. "Take care of yourself, Augusta. And send us word the moment those Vikings land on our shores."

"I'll try." I promised him and I said goodbye to Aethelred next.

Father was the last to say goodbye to me. He held me by the shoulders and scanned my face over with his pale eyes. "Remember what I said about marriages, Augusta. Work at it. And do continue searching for knowledge; it's my favorite thing about you."

I quickly dove in to hug Father, knowing that when I let go I'd be leaving for a very long time. Father hesitated before hugging me back, but even then he was the one who let go first. I finally let him go and turned away, allowing Kenton to help me into the wheelhouse. I sat down inside and exhaled hard, clasping my hands together to keep them from shaking. My handmaidens were quickly brought in after me and the door shut behind them.

* * *

The road to Bamburgh was wet and rough. It rained almost every day and the road itself was rough. I spent most of my time in the wheelhouse with my handmaids, occasionally looking outside to see where we were.

When I first saw snow though, I leapt from the wheelhouse at the first stop.

"My lady," Alberta started, following behind me. "Be careful; you'll catch a chill." I took the cloak from her and quickly wrapped myself in it.

The snow crunched below my feet and fresh snow was falling gently on my head. I tipped my head back and couldn't help but smile to myself as it landed right there. I froze when I noticed Kenton watching me curiously and I shrugged at him.

"Snow rarely comes to Winchester." I explained briefly.

"Snow comes to Bamburgh yearly, my dear." Kenton replied. "You'll be seeing more than you've ever wanted to of snow."

"I'm going to enjoy it until then." I said with another shrug.

Sex with him had been getting better. When he wasn't drunk, Kenton could be quite charming. He spent more time kissing me when he was sober. I was finding that I didn't quite mind sex, I mainly minded it when he'd come into my tent immediately expecting it.

We were almost to Bamburgh when I decided that I wouldn't mind it if we had a child. My imagination went straight for a little girl who looked very similar to me with dark hair and black eyes. In my mind, I had already named my oldest daughter Constance.

* * *

Bamburgh was beautiful covered in snow. It melted away soon after we arrived in March. I got my own quarters, attached to Kenton's with a single door. The library here was a little bigger than the library at Winchester, and I quickly found myself a nice corner to put my copied scrolls.

The ocean was more than I had ever imagined. I could spend hours just staring at it, at the way it never truly stopped moving and crashed into the shore, at the line that connected the sky and sea. I spent several days with my handmaids on the cold beach, soaking up the faint rays of sunlight.

Kenton withdrew into himself here, suddenly becoming a military commander preparing for the upcoming Viking invasion. Kenton made sure to keep me from these meetings. And since I no longer had Alfred, I had no way of finding out what was being said anymore.

"It is not the place of the duchess to attend war councils." Kenton told me sharply when I asked. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to sit in on the meetings anyway."

I had blinked at him. "Kenton. I've spoken with a Viking, remember? I could maybe have some insight-"

"A crippled Viking, if I remember what King Ecbert told me." Kenton cut me off. "Speaking to a cripple about the war strategies of Vikings is like consulting a simpleton about the complexities of court. Now please don't bring up the war councils, my dear."

It was a couple of weeks later when Kenton came into my quarters and knelt before me. "Augusta, I hate what I must ask you to do, but I need you and your handmaidens to pack immediately." He said softly.

I stared at him. "Pack? For what?"

"Scouts have reported seeing Viking ships off the coast to the far north." Kenton explained, standing up. "They've come much sooner than expected. My dear Augusta, our preparations aren't quite ready yet. If the city falls, do you know what they'd do to you?"

I vaguely remembered my last conversation with Ivar. Be smart, Augusta, he had said. I clenched my jaw and nodded. If I was taken by Vikings, I could expect to be raped and killed, possibly tortured for information I now didn't have.

Would Ivar allow that, I wondered without meaning to. But I quickly shook my head as I packed. I couldn't think that someone I knew for only a week last summer would bother lifting a finger to help me.

The plan was to send me with a guard to King Aelle's castle farther inland. There, I would stay with his wife and daughter, Queen Ealhswith and Princess Blaeja. When the Vikings tried to attack Bamburgh on the coast, I'd be safe at the king's home while the king's army and Kenton and all the other armies kept the Vikings from coming too far inland.

Or at least, that's what Kenton and his war council believed would happen.


	7. 7: The Road

I could still see my breath as we started west to King Aelle. The guard I had was about forty men with a handful of cooks and a dozen grooms and horse masters and my handmaidens and myself. I had looked at Kenton with raised eyebrows when I saw the numbers.

"Don't you think we'll move faster if there's less people?" I asked him.

Kenton blinked and me and brushed a lock of hair away from my face. "Augusta, my dear, if I sent less men and you were attacked and hurt, I'd never forgive myself."

"I thought you said we were being sent away so that we _weren't_ going to be attacked."

"Please don't make everything complicated, my dear." Kenton said in the way I was recognizing as he was done arguing voice. He kissed me gently one last time before seeing our caravan off.

My handmaidens were as bored with traveling as I was, I could tell. Moira watched the countryside pass by slowly with glazed eyes. "I'm willing to say that Bamburgh wouldn't have been taken. Attacked perhaps, but not taken."

Alberta shot her a hard glare. "Hush, child. The Duke simply didn't want our lady to get hurt. Now don't say anything else unless it's positive." Moira gave the older woman a matching glare but didn't say anything else until the wheelhouse stopped for the night.

On the third day of traveling, the captain of the guard opened the door. "We'll be staying at this inn, my lady." He said shortly. "If you'll come with me, I'll escort you to your room."

I let him lead me and I went to sleep soon after dinner. We still had about a week of traveling and I was already tired of it after three days. I wasn't asleep for very long before a blood curdling scream jerked me awake.

Cecily was in my room the next second. "An attack is happening, my lady." She explained while grabbing my thick robe and throwing it over my shoulders. I finished putting it on as she continued, fear making her eyes so wide I can see the whites of her eyes perfectly. She wasn't even speaking to me anymore. "They sent us away to be safe." She said with a shake of her small head. "They sent us straight into the jaws of the beast."

I grabbed Cecily and made her look into my face. "Cecily. Look at me. We are going to be fine. Where are Alberta and Moira?"

She shook her head. "Moira wasn't in the room and Alberta went to find her. I haven't seen them...oh God!" Cecily suddenly burst into tears. I dragged her into a hug as another high pitched scream happened outside. The sound of metal clanging against metal almost drowned it out.

I pushed Cecily away and shook her slightly. "Listen to me, Cecily." I said, forcing my voice to sound steady. "We have to hide. We have to be smart about this. Alberta and Moira will be safe too when they come back. We need something to defend ourselves with first. Come with me and stay close to me. Are you listening?"

Cecily nodded, taking a break in her sobbing. "Y-yes, my lady." I led the way out of the room with Cecily on my heels, we moved downstairs fast where the innkeep had barricaded the front door.

"I need a knife." I called out to the innkeeper's shaking form. The old man looked up at me and shook his head before burying it in his hands. I stomped to the bottom of the stairs and stalked to him behind the bar. "I am Augusta, wife of the Duke of Barburgh and daughter of King Ecbert of Wessex and you're being really unhelpful right now." It took two seconds to find a long and sharp knife and hand it Cecily and it took another two seconds for the door to start banging. The innkeeper started to cry as I started scrambling to find another knife.

"My lady!" Cecily screamed as the tables and chairs blocking the only door toppled over and crashed on the ground. I looked up and saw an unfamiliar and terrifying face trying to shove his way into the gap of the door.

"Back upstairs!" I barked and Cecily didn't need to be told twice to run up those stairs. I followed after her, empty handed as the fallen tables and chairs scrapped against the wooden floor as the Viking started shoving his way inside.

Cecily had darted back into my room and I followed after her, slamming the door and shoving the bed halfway across the room before I heard the dying screams of the innkeeper.

"Help me!" I snapped at Cecily. She blinked and stared at me, holding the knife out in front of her and looking like she hadn't heard me. I let out a snarl and continued shoving the bed. If the innkeeper was dead, the Vikings would be up here any second-

The door started to open right as I gave a final shove to block the door. The unknown Viking laughed cruelly as I rushed over to Cecily and took the knife from her.

A sentence of harsh sounding words came at us and I froze. It had taken me a moment, but I realized that he had simply laughed and said, "Let me in, ladies!"

"Get behind me, Cecily." I ordered. Cecily didn't respond and I physically put myself in front of her, holding the knife out in front of myself like a sword. I wished I had a sword.

The Viking rammed his shoulder into the door and it opened a couple more inches. "I'll be in there soon. Open up and help me out."

"Who're you talking to?" An unknown voice sounded from farther away, maybe down the hall.

"There are a couple of bitches in here," The first Viking said more diplomatically than I had expected. "I just want them to open up and let me in." He peered in at us and I got a good look at his face.

Half of his head was shaved and what hair he did have was blond and swept over to the side. His eyes looked black from my distance and I sucked in my breath when I saw that his face was covered in tattoos.

He laughed at me. "Oh, I know I'm a scary looking fucker. Just let me in, Saxon, and I promise I'll be nice and gentle with you. I'll fuck you so good, you'll name our son after me."

His face was suddenly shoved out of the way and a much younger face took his place. He looked to be around my age and his green eyes were flashing at me.

"I say you let _me_ fuck you, Saxon." This second one said. "I like the way you're holding that knife. Put it down and I promise, I'll have you cumming more times than you can count."

Cecily was shaking into my back, her nails digging into my shoulders. I grit my teeth and tried to look intimidating. "If either of you take one step in here," I snarled. "I'll cut you. You won't be worrying about f-fucking anyone then." I stumbled with a lot of the words, but the message was out in their own language. Cecily flinched at the sound of my voice in the Viking tongue, but she didn't emerge from her hiding place behind me.

The two faces were silent and staring long and hard at me. And then the younger one snapped, "Hold on."

He rammed himself into the door, and soon the original one was helping him. With the two of them throwing their weight into the door, they were able to fight their way inside the room. I backed up until Cecily was pressed into the corner of the room. I held the knife out; had I just doomed us?

The younger Viking strode forward and stared at me long and hard, like he was trying to recognize me. I knew for a fact I had never seen this man before; I hadn't seen either of them before. The original Viking stood at the younger one's shoulder and was looking hungrily at both me and Cecily. Why weren't they attacking us?

The younger Viking slowly raised his hand and pointed at me. "Augusta?" He asked, my name sounding foreign to me due to his thick accent. I blinked and stared at him. "You are Augusta, right? The bastard?"

"How do you know that?" I asked, my words a bit more confident sounding now.

Instead of answering me, his face broke into a gleeful smile. "Well shit! This is great! The guard outside said they were guarding some highborn but he didn't say-" He cut himself off with a barklike laugh.

The hair on my arms stood straight up. That laugh was familiar…

The tattooed Viking was staring at him. "Am I missing something?" He asked.

The younger Viking patted the first one's chest jokingly. "Oh, Halfdan. I'm afraid this Saxon is off limits. She's the Saxon Ivar's been obsessing over for the past year. Oh yes, you're just like he described. Black eyes and all."

He and I stared at each other for a long moment before this Viking took a step forward. "Where are my manners? My name is Hvitserk; I'm Ivar's brother."

That answered my question. I side stepped to better block Cecily from him. "How do you say your name again?" I asked, vaguely remembering it when Ivar had told me the first time.

"Hvitserk."

"Hvitserk?"

"Close enough." He said with another wide smile. "Put the knife down now."

"Or what?" I asked, and then without thinking. "Why?"

"Or I'll break your arms and Halfdan and I will _drag_ you outside." Hvitserk answered calmly, as if talking about the weather. "And because we're not going to kill you, not yet anyway. Bjorn and the others are going to want to talk to you." We stared at each other for another long moment. "Do you want your arm to break?"

Halfdan snapped forward faster than I would've thought possible, grasped my left wrist and twisted. I let out a shriek of pain and the knife clatter to the floor. Hvitserk picked it up and stuck it in his belt as Halfdan shoved me forward, nearly causing me to crash into Hvitserk.

Cecily screamed when Halfdan grabbed a handful of her hair. "What about this one?"

Hvitserk had grabbed me with an iron like grip and was currently working on tying my hands in front of me. "Don't care. Do whatever."

"No!" I screamed, launching back towards Cecily. Hvitserk, however, kept a tight grip on the rope and I was only able to get away by a foot. "She doesn't get harmed either! She's _my_ handmaid and I'm supposed to protect her. Bring her wherever you're bringing me, just _don't_ lay a hand on her!"

"You did a shitty job of protecting her." Halfdan snapped. Tears were streaming down Cecily's face but I looked away to glare at Hvitserk. He stared at me for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"Fine. Bring the slave too." Hvitserk said.

"She's not a-"

"She's about to be." Hvitserk cut me off and started walking away, dragging me along with him. I looked over my shoulder to see Halfdan dragging Cecily along with him by the back of her neck.

"Cecily!" I called out. "Just walk with him. I'm not going to let them hurt you. Understand?"

"Hey!" Hvitserk snapped suddenly, giving the rope a yank. "You only speak my language, okay? No more Saxon language."

"How am I supposed to tell her anything then?" I asked as he led the way downstairs.

"I guess she'll figure it out then." Hvitserk snapped.

Outside was a blaze of blood and fire. The wheelhouse we had traveled here in was completely ablaze and the guards who had brought us here were lying dead on the ground everywhere. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Alberta and Moira. Hopefully they got away.

"Come here, Saxon." Hvitserk said, tugging at the rope to speed me up. Halfdan was lagging behind; he had stopped to talk to another Viking who also had face tattoos. But while Halfdan was light, this man was dark with a braid that swung on his back. I hadn't seen hair that long on anyone, let alone a man. "Quit staring. You'll probably meet him soon enough."

"Where's he taking Cecily?" I asked, burying my heels into the ground. Hvitserk stopped with a heaving sigh and looked back to Halfdan and Cecily. He was leading her away from us and out of sight.

Hvitserk looked back to me. "He's probably taking her to the other slaves. We caught a few here and farther north."

I swallowed hard. "What'll happen to them?"

Hvitserk shrugged. "Depends. We might decide to send them back home. Who needs extra mouths to feed during war? Don't give me that look. I promise your friend will not be harmed, by me and Halfdan at least. Now come on; you're stalling enough already."

We walked a little ways to a small cottage farther down the road. I heard a woman crying and looked over to see a Viking raping her. I gasped in horror at the sight, finally noticing the tiny bodies of small children near her. I had to stop in my tracks when I recognized Moira's dead body near them.

"You can't stop for every bad thing you see." Hvitserk said shortly. He got me walking again.

"Can I just ask you something?" I asked quietly.

"You're going to anyway." Hvitserk said.

"Why?"

Hvitserk didn't answer me and just pulled me inside the cottage with him.


	8. 8: Sons of Ragnar

There were four others in the room. The first I noticed, was the captain of the guard, who was kneeling in the center of the room. He looked like he had already been beaten severely.

The two men pacing around him were both very tall, with long blond braids. I had to look at both of them twice and convince myself that I wasn't seeing Ragnar Lothbrok come back. These two had to be sons of his, they both looked and moved just as Ragnar had.

The last was sitting at a table, his long blond hair moved out of his way. He looked rather bored with whatever was going on in front of him. But he was the first to look up when Hvitserk and I entered, and he was the one who asked, "What's that there, Hvitserk?"

"This," Hvitserk announced, getting everyone's attention and clapping me on the back. "Is Ivar's Saxon. The one he told us about? I found her."

"How?" One of the ones pacing asked. "Ivar said she was King Ecbert's bastard. How'd she end up this far north?"

"I think this one can answer," The other Viking said, looking down to the captain of the guard, who was reciting the Lord's prayer. I took a step back as the man lashed a foot out and kicked the guard in the stomach.

The guard spat out in his our shared language. "Let my lady go. Kill me, you heathens."

Hvitserk immediately turned to me. "What'd he say?"

I hesitated before translating. When Hvitserk first asked me to translate, the three Vikings all seemed annoyed, but once I correctly translated into their language, all three of them were staring at me.

The blond one in the corner shook his head. "You mispronounced _heathen_."

"Shut it, Sigurd." One of the standings ones said before stalking towards me. I took two steps back but Hvitserk held me to the spot. Only when he was towering over me did he stop. "What should we do with you, bastard?"

"Ubbe." The unnamed Viking said suddenly. "Back away. Hvitserk put her somewhere else."

The one called Ubbe took two steps back, looking happy with himself now that I was even more afraid. Hvitserk blinked at the man in the middle of the room. "Put her where? I want to see Ivar's reaction to her being here. Where is he anyway?"

"Ivar and Floki will be here soon. Just get her out of the way of the door."

Hvitserk pulled me along and sat me down in the corner, near where Sigurd was sitting. Sigurd glared at me for a long moment before turning back to the others. The captain of the guard was staring hard at me and he shook his head slightly.

Where were their boats? Kenton had been convinced they'd attack the coast first, that's why he sent me farther inland. So then _why_ were the Vikings far away from the ocean and this far inland? I couldn't ask them straight out, I felt. Not when they were still deciding what to do with me. I didn't have any more time to think of it before the door opened again and another massively tall Viking entered. At first glance, I thought he had a humped back, but then I recognized that he was carrying someone else.

The Viking carrying Ivar was massive with dark markings stretching underneath his eyes and curling around towards his ears. He didn't look at me as he walked past the still kneeling captain and he carefully lowered Ivar down into a chair, and then he looked to me.

"Christians?" He asked, his voice a lot higher pitched than I would've thought.

"We'll explain later, Floki." The unnamed Viking replied. "Leave us." The one called Floki gave dirty looks to both me and the captain before taking his leave.

"Augusta?"

Ivar was staring at me, his ice blue eyes stretched wide. I looked back over to him and my mind went blank as to what to say. What could I even say?

"Found your Saxon for you, Ivar." Hvitserk told him cheerfully. Ivar looked between me and Hvitserk and the rope tying my wrists together that Hvitserk was still holding onto. "I see why you like her. I like her too. She tried to stab me and Halfdan when we cornered her."

"Oh, she did?" Ubbe asked from across the room. "You left that out, Hvitserk. Hear that, Bjorn? Maybe she's not a tame bastard after all."

Bjorn, now finally having a name, snorted. "Doesn't matter. My question is why the bastard of King Ecbert is all the way this far north?" He stated all of the while striding slowly towards me and he ended it by squatting right in front of me, causing me to look down to him.

The captain of the guard tried moving forward, his hands tied behind his back. Ubbe moved forward and grabbed a fistful of his hair to keep him still. Bjorn side stepped so that he blocked my view. "Answer my question or the guard dies."

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling more dry than ever. "I...I was going to King Aelle. It was supposed to be-" I cut myself off and blinked, not knowing the actual word. "Supposed to be…"

"Safe?" Ivar suggested from his spot, finally speaking.

"Safe." I said, testing the word out. "It was supposed to be safe there."

"Safer than with King Ecbert?" Bjorn asked. "King Ecbert should've known we would strike at King Aelle first."

"I wasn't sent there by King Ecbert." I explained. The longer I explained, the longer the captain and I stayed alive. All the while I could feel five pairs of pale eyes bearing into me. "I was sent there by my husband."

Instantly, Hvitserk and Sigurd both shot looks at Ivar. Ivar's entire body language changed. He straightened in his seat and was leaning forward. His blue eyes were suddenly gleaming brightly.

"Who's your husband?" Bjorn asked, either not seeing or not caring about the sudden mood change happening with Ivar.

"Kenton the Duke of Bamburgh."

Bjorn turned around to Ubbe. "Bamburgh is how far away?"

"About three days east, I think." Ubbe said, narrowing his eyes. "I fought near there a few years ago. Men there knew how to fight at the least."

I shifted in my seat and risked a glance to the captain. His mouth was bleeding heavily. "He was convinced you would attack the coast first. That's why he sent me farther inland, for safety."

"Well he was extremely wrong, wasn't he?" Sigurd asked with a snort.

"Perfect." Hvitserk said, sounding rather cheerful. "We continue going to King Aelle, Augusta's husband comes out and fight, we kill the both of them and then head south for King Ecbert."

"Yes, Hvitserk." Bjorn said with a sneer. "Announce all of the war plans while you're at it." He stood back up and I leaned farther back in my chair, seeing as Bjorn's body was too close for comfort. Bjorn looked back to the captain of the guard. "He'll go with the other captives. Make him a slave. Second he gives any resistance, kill him in front of the other captives."

"What about her?" Hvitserk asked, looking down at me, his eyebrows furrowed. I risked a glance at Ivar, who was watching Bjorn with those angry looking eyes. Bjorn didn't answer Hvitserk and instead turned to Ivar.

Bjorn and Ivar stared at each other for a long and tense moment. "I imagine you don't want her dead." Bjorn said curtly.

Ivar's mouth curled into a mocking smile. "No, I do not. I think she's already proven herself to be a decent translator. And her _husband_ is a ruler of some sort. Keep her alive and as a hostage."

Ubbe walked forward until he stood between Bjorn and Ivar. "What kind of translator would she make? It's hard to understand her at times through that accent."

"Make her a slave," Sigurd suggested, speaking for the first time in a long time.

"Simply try." Ivar snarled, banging a fist against the arm of his chair. I flinched at the sound, my heartbeat beating so fast I could physically feel it.

"Bring her back to Kattegat?" Hvitserk suggested with a shrug.

"And do what?" Bjorn.

"I meant as a free woman." Hvitserk.

"She's a Christian." Bjorn said curtly with a shake of his head, causing his long braid to swing. "You all were too young to see what happened when Athelstan was brought to Kattegat. No, I don't want to see that happen again."

"She is not Christian!" Ivar exclaimed, dragging himself to the edge of his seat and pointing at me. He finally looked to me. "When we first spoke, you said it yourself. That you didn't believe in your father's god. Am I wrong?"

I nodded at Ivar. "He's right. I don't believe in that anymore; never did to begin with." Bjorn started pacing. I had the feeling that Bjorn was the one I needed to convince. He was the oldest and the other brothers seemed to be watching him. I kept my eyes on Bjorn. "I can speak four languages, including yours."

"You barely speak ours." Sigurd corrected me. "You're mispronouncing words even a toddler could say."

"Then I'll learn to speak it better." I countered him, forgetting my place. Sigurd's green eyes flashed, much like Hvitserk's. I looked back to Bjorn's pacing form. "You'll need a translator while you're here. None of the common folk will know what you want, and barely any nobles or royals know your language. Either you'd have to learn theirs, or they yours. And I know for a fact that most nobles and royals don't respect your people enough to learn a language for you."

"We don't need their _respect_ ," Hvitserk said, stressing the word and not so subtly correcting me. "All that matters is that they fear us."

Ubbe rolled his eyes at his younger brother's words and I saw Ivar staring hard at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. I looked away from him when Bjorn stalked back over to me and, not unkindly, stood me up by pulling on my elbows. He drew a dagger and faster than I could blink, the ropes binding my wrists were cut off. Hvitserk dropped the end of the rope he had been holding onto.

"Ivar makes a good point about needing a translator." Bjorn said. "When Ragnar first came here, he had a vision of our people settling, making a home. Until that day, we'll need someone to speak for us." He looked to Hvitserk. "You found her. You take her to Helga; tell her to keep a close eye on her." Hvitserk nodded once and started to the door. I made a move to go after him but was stopped when Bjorn's hand shot out and grabbed onto my shoulder, his fingers squeezing tightly.

"Bjorn!" Ivar shouted out and there was a faint bump. He had launched himself out of his chair and he was sitting up and looking ready to throw something at his older brother. Ubbe took a massive step forward to stand directly beside Ivar, not touching him in any way but still close enough to get in the way of anything.

"Make no mistake, bastard." Bjorn said in a low and dark voice, completely ignoring Ivar. "If I get the sense that you're trying to escape, or cause trouble in any way, I'll kill you myself."

I nodded jerkily at that. "Noted." Bjorn let me go and took a step back, allowing me to follow Hvitserk.

Once we were outside, the sounds of screaming and crying had faded and a massive, stinking bonfire had been made. I gagged hard when I realized that they were burning bodies. Moira was somewhere in that pile, I realized with a rush of cold. All of the guards and everyone from the caravan were burning…

"Don't throw up." Ubbe's voice sounded as he followed me and Hvitserk. I looked behind him but didn't see any of the others following him. "It's just me. Ivar will probably crawl his way to you later though."

Hvitserk turned on his heel to face Ubbe. "Did you see Ivar's face? I was expecting something a little bit more though."

Ubbe shrugged and turned to me. "Ivar told us all about you, Augusta. I personally think he was looking forward to going back to King Ecbert's castle."

I couldn't keep up with what they were saying. The smell of burning bodies still clogged my nostrils and my stomach was rolling. But we must've gotten to where we were going because Hvitserk nearly pushed me into a tent.

"Hello?" A woman's voice said, sounding confused. I looked around to see a bare minimum around. The tent had a large mat in a corner with a smaller mat right beside it. A fire was in the center, where the smoke was rising and leaving the tent through a slit in the top. A small dark skinned girl was sitting so still beside the fire that she could've been mistaken for a statue.

The woman who had spoken was, like every other Viking around, tall. Her blond hair fell all the way down to her elbows. Her light brown eyes were lined thickly with black and she was looking at me as if she had no idea what to make of me.

"This is Augusta," Ubbe said, gesturing between me and the woman. "Augusta, this is Helga. Bjorn wants you to keep an eye on her, Helga."

"For how long?" Helga asked.

"He didn't say." Hvitserk said. "If you could make sure she doesn't run off or kill herself, it'd be a help. She's an important Saxon. And no, she's not a Christian; just a Saxon." With that said, he and Ubbe bid Helga goodbye and left.

I couldn't move. I could feel my whole body shaking violently and the air seemed very thick and heavy. Helga moved forward quickly and her fingertips lightly touched my chin as she tilted my face upwards.

She muttered something I didn't understand and took my hand gently. I let her bring me to the fire, what other choice did I have? She sat me across from the dark skinned girl, who looked as if she hadn't even registered my being there. Five seconds later, Helga placed a bowl of something into my hands.

"Drink." She said, motioning the action of bringing the bowl to her mouth. I did as she motioned and she smiled widely at me. The bowl was halfway empty when Helga threw a heavy quilt over my shoulders. I finished the brown broth and wrapped myself in the quilt.

Between the sheer tiredness and the smell of burning bodies outside, I was ready to collapse and not get back up.


	9. 9: Stay Alive

Helga shook me awake the next morning as gently as she could. For a brief moment, I stared in horror around the tent, not knowing where I was. But then the events of last night came back and I stood up on shaking legs.

"Here," Helga said, putting a piece of dried meat into my palm. "Eat this. It's best to have something in your belly." I started eating the meat and had to spend several minutes chewing on it, as it was as tough as leather.

Meanwhile, Helga was trying to coax the dark skinned girl into eating something. "Come, my love." Helga was saying in a soft whisper. "You'll lose your strength if you don't eat."

"What's her name?" I asked, my voice cracking from lack of use. Helga flinched slightly and turned to me.

"So you do speak?" She asked. "You didn't say anything last night."

I blinked and shifted my feet. "Last night was...was…"

Helga offered me a small smile and stood up to hand me more of the dried meat. "I understand. Wait right here." She hurried off and I turned to the girl, who watched Helga leave with wide eyes.

She was definitely not from Northumbria, or Wessex, or anywhere I knew of for that matter. Could she be from Norway, where the Vikings came from? I had glimpsed some dark skinned Vikings last night. Perhaps her parents were out there somewhere, even though Helga acted very motherly towards her. Helga reentered the room and the little girl turned back around to stare at her feet.

"Here you are." Helga said, pushing a bundle of cloth into my free hand. "Ivar stopped by this morning, asked if I could find you something proper to wear. I see his point; I can't let you continue wearing your sleeping gown." She reached down and lifted a bit of my nightgown. I saw her point. Already, the night gown I had worn to bed last night was stained along the bottom with mud and both the gown and my robe were covered in dust and wrinkled.

"I think you're both right," I muttered before taking another large bite of the dried meat. I couldn't quite place what kind of animal it was as I chewed. I quickly retreated back into the corner of the tent, as far from Helga and the girl as possible, and removed my robe and nightgown as quickly as possible. There was no shield to hide me from her or anyone who came into the tent, so I hurried into the clothes that Helga had given me.

The dress was simple and without several layers. For a moment, I thought about how impractical this seemed. Vikings, from what I knew, were from the far north, where it snowed every year and was cold. But this dress was made of wool, and already I could feel it keeping my own body heat close to me. I walked back to Helga with my wrinkled nightgown.

"What should I do with this then?" I asked. Helga responded by taking it and stowing it away in a trunk.

"We should get a move on." Helga said. "Ivar let me know this morning that we'll be moving on as soon as possible. The Saxons might already know where we are." I grimaced at her words and said nothing. Helga threw dirt on top of the fire, smothering the flames. The dark skinned girl stood up and took several steps back, looking slightly alarmed at the sudden movement.

I blinked. "Helga? Who is the girl?"

Helga gave me a wide smile. "Her name is Tanaruz. Last year, I went on Bjorn's raids to the Mediterranean with Floki. Tanaruz's parents were killed during the raid, so I adopted her. She's my daughter now."

I looked from Helga to Tanaruz, who had gone back to sitting down, hugging her knees. She barely responded to anything Helga and I were saying, except when we started sentences or something loud was said. She didn't understand a single thing we were saying, I realized with a stab of pity.

Helga recruited me into helping her fold up the blankets and beds. She disappeared outside for a few minutes before coming back with the massive Viking I saw last night, the one with black markings smeared under his eyes and back towards his ears. He locked eyes with me and narrowed his eyes, distrust shining there.

"This is my husband, Floki." Helga said, continuing to the folded up beds. "Floki, that is Augusta. Hvitserk assured me that she isn't Christian."

Floki scoffed and stalked past me to lift the folded beds up, picking them up with ease. I nearly jumped out of his way as he silently hauled the folded beds away. I followed him for a few steps, enough to look outside the tent. The Vikings were breaking camp and the sky was a very pale gray. The sun was probably not even fully risen yet.

"Augusta," Helga got my attention right after stomping out the embers of the fire. "Stop standing around and help."

Seeing as I was already there, Helga wasn't going to let me get away without helping. Together we hauled a chest to a nearby wagon and she showed me how to break the tent down. Tanaruz stayed out of the way and Helga didn't ask her for any help. In a few short minutes, the spot we had spent the night was an empty patch of grass on the side of the road.

Helga and Tanaruz hopped into the wagon right as it started to move. I looked around to the front; some Viking I didn't know was leading a couple of mules into pulling the wagon. I walked behind the wagon for a solid minute before Helga looked down to me.

"Get in!" She exclaimed, reaching her hand out. I hesitated before taking it and Helga managed to heave me into the back with amazing strength.

"Do you know where we're heading to?" I asked her after a few minutes of silence.

Helga actually narrowed her eyes and frowned at me. "I don't know if I'm supposed to let you know that, Augusta. Just sit back and relax. If Bjorn or any of the other sons of Ragnar have need of you, they'll come and get you."

I couldn't think of any argument to that. Helga signalled that the conversation was over, seeing as she turned to an uncomfortable looking Tanaruz. I watched for a moment as Helga began to braid the girl's black hair before turning away.

The parade of Vikings didn't stop until sundown. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of Ragnar's sons and I hadn't left the back of the wagon either. I helped Helga pitch the tent, something that took much longer with me trying to help. Eventually Floki seemed to appear from nowhere and he chased me away until he could help Helga. I hung back and stood near Tanaruz as the couple raised the tent.

All around us, Vikings were pitching their own tents and building fires. I narrowed my eyes at the growing crowd. How many were there? None of the ones around me looked familiar. I looked back to Floki and Helga as the older woman let out a high pitched squeal. Floki had apparently snuck up behind her and picked her up off the ground. Helga was giggling and Floki had a wild smile on his face, a complete different person from the one who had been glaring at me earlier.

I thought about Kenton for the first time all day. It had only been a day; had he received word that our caravan had been overtaken? I shuffled my feet uncomfortably when I realized that I couldn't picture him being very upset about it.

Floki had put Helga back on the ground and they moved together to the wagon where their few belongings were kept. They were talking to each other in a hushed voice and I blinked, recognizing that walk. They moved together the same way Father and Judith used to. It had always seemed to me that those who moved together like that, always seemed truly happy together. I tried to think of more couples like that, but none came to mind.

Tanaruz's voice suddenly sounded and I looked down in shock. This was the first time I had heard her talk. Her small head was bent and her eyes were closed and she spoke gently to herself. Was she praying? I tried to listen to her words, but I couldn't make heads or tails of her language. I shook my head and stopped trying; if only I could talk to someone right now.

Floki started building a fire in front of the tent and Helga rushed over and grabbed Tanaruz by the shoulders, wrapping her arm around her and interrupting whatever prayer Tanaruz was making. "You may come closer now, Augusta."

I trailed after Helga to the fire, but soon got the feeling that someone was watching me. I stopped and looked around, quickly spotting Hvitserk and Ubbe. The two were talking amongst themselves, watching me with narrowed gazes. I held their gazes for a moment before Ubbe flashed me a wolfish smile and waved a hand in greeting. I narrowed my gaze right back at him before turning away and going inside the tent, ignoring Helga, Floki, and Tanaruz sitting beside the fire.

How was I supposed to continue like this? Ragnar's sons weren't going to need me until they had need of a translator, and they weren't going to be in need of that until they came across King Aelle, who was more likely to chew off his own arm before giving the Vikings any information. Helga wasn't allowed to tell me anything, even if she knew anything. Every other Viking I had seen or come in contact with had either scowled or ignored me. I was the Saxon they were holding onto for now. To them, I had simply waiting for my execution date. And I hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of Cecily or the captain of the guard as the new slaves were being herded along somewhere farther back in the parade of Vikings.

"You look like you're going mad." A sudden and familiar voice made me jump with fright.

Ivar had crawled into the tent while I had been pacing. However long he had been sitting there, I had no idea. Ivar snorted at my reaction and crawled the rest of the way inside the tent and heaved himself onto the bed, so that he was sitting on the edge.

"It's good to see you too, Augusta." Ivar said, snark dripping off his voice.

I felt the hitch in my breath as I glared at him. All the frustration I had been feeling all day was bubbling at the surface, threatening to spill over. Ivar narrowed his eyes at me. "You haven't gone mute have you?" He asked.

With my fists clenched, I shook my head. "Not mute." I snapped.

"Angry though," Ivar snapped back. "What's the matter with you?"

I shot him a look. "What's the matter with me? What's the-? _Ivar._ "

" _Augusta._ "

"I'm traveling to who knows where, all while being told nothing." I told him, taking several steps forward so that I stood in front of him. Ivar straightened up his back as I got closer.

"You don't need to know anything about what we're doing." Ivar shot back. "When we need you to translate, we'll summon you."

"That's what Helga said this morning." I said. "Ivar I can't just _sit_ here and do _nothing_."

Ivar blinked and tilted his head at me. "I would've thought you'd be used to it, being a king's bastard and all."

He of all people should _know_ what that meant to me. All of the anger and frustration boiled over and without thinking I closed the gap between us and shoved at Ivar's chest. Ivar let out an "oof" and he landed on his back on the bed. I blinked and stared. Ivar stared at the ceiling of the tent for a moment before sitting back up.

"What was that?" Ivar snapped. "Do you know what would happen if anyone else had pushed me?" He paused and his ice blue eyes glinted. "Do it again."

"And have my hands cut off?" I snapped back at him. "I'm not stupid, Ivar.

"You could have fooled me." Ivar retorted. "Who pushes a bear when they're angry. It was a weak shove anyway; I've felt worse from gnats-"

Because he was asking for it, I made a move to push him down again. But Ivar moved faster than I ever could. The second my hands made contact with his chest, Ivar's hands snapped and grasped ahold of them and he both pulled and rolled, bringing me onto the bed and slamming my back on the bed. Ivar rolled effortlessly and he was suddenly on top of me. I squirmed and tried to get control of my hands but Ivar had pinned them against the bed, his fingers lacing in between mine. Since his legs were tied together, they separated mine and he seemed to be pressing his hips down into my thighs to keep them still. I stopped squirming and realized just how _close_ he was.

Ivar's face was hovering just inches above mine. If he was bothered by the sudden closeness, he didn't show it. The only hint that this had taken him any effort was that his breathing had deepened.

"You act on impulse too much." He said simply, as if he wasn't pinning me down. "The more you do that, the more likely you are to die. I don't want that. You don't want that. And I'm sure that husband of yours doesn't want that either."

He looked angrier now that Kenton was brought up. I frowned hard at him, which was easy seeing as his face was mere inches from mine.

"You want something to do?" Ivar asked, his grip tightening on my hands. "Fine. Stay alive then. Keep your head down and wait for something to happen. The faster the war is over, the faster you go back to your _husband_."

"Can you please stop bringing him up?" I asked, my voice coming out smaller than I thought it would.

"Why?"

"Because it's a little uncomfortable for you to bring him up while you're _on top of me_." I hissed. Ivar's angry face melted away and he smiled in what looked like victory as he let go of his hands and rolled off of me. I sat up and shifted away a couple of inches as Ivar stayed sitting right beside me.

"Would you rather me bring him up while sitting here?" Ivar asked, the sarcasm making his voice have an edge.

I shook my head in frustration. "Just don't bring him up at all. He probably doesn't know what happened to me yet."

Ivar shrugged. "He doesn't have to worry, Augusta. So long as you remember what I told you, no harm will come your way." He reached over and patted my upper arm, letting his fingers graze before dropping his arm.

Ivar still had a glint in his eye that seemed to flash dangerously every time Kenton was mentioned. Even though I saw that glint again, it didn't stop me from believing him when he said I'd be kept from harm.


	10. 10: Cold Blood

Keeping my head down was easier said than done. For the next couple of days, I tried helping Helga without confronting any other Viking. I still hadn't seen any of the people captured that first attack, and I was starting to get a sinking feeling that they had been sent to Norway, like Hvitserk had said that first time we had met. Poor Cecily…

Two days after my conversation with Ivar, I woke up to the feeling of my insides writhing. As I sat up in my bed, I froze the minute I felt something wet between my thighs. I sucked in my breath and pulled up the blanket I had been underneath. The red mess was a familiar sight, I guessed, and possibly a welcome.

I didn't want to imagine what would've happened to me if I had ended up pregnant here.

"Helga?" I said as I approached her. I quickly explained my situation and the older woman didn't hesitate to help me, finding a clean dress for me and giving me rags to clean myself up.

Helga nodded to herself once I was finished. "Well, at least we know that now."

I looked over to her. "What do you mean?"

She blinked and hesitated before coming clean. "Floki told me that the sons of Ragnar were worried about you being pregnant; Bjorn in particular. If you were with child, Bjorn would've been more keen to use you as hostage."

"Am I not a hostage right now?" I asked. Helga smiled slightly and shrugged.

"If you were truly a hostage, Augusta, I don't think you'd be spending time with me."

She had a point, I realized. That just raised more questions as to what my true role here was.

That same evening, Sigurd walked right up to me while I helped Helga build the tent (a skill I'd been slowly getting better at).

"You're needed." Sigurd said to me. He glanced over to Helga. "How are you, Helga? I can send someone over to help you in Augusta's absence."

Helga smiled warmly and shook her head. "I'll manage, Sigurd."

Sigurd turned back to me, his mismatched eyes narrowed. "C'mon then. We're in a bit of a rush." I blinked and hurried after Sigurd, trying to keep up with the fast pace he was setting.

"So what do you need?" I asked after a moment of awkward silence. I was on the side of Sigurd's abnormal eye, and he glanced at me briefly before turning forward again.

"You're a translator, aren't you?" He asked dryly. I blinked at him and he snorted. "It's getting better though, your accent. Talking with Helga must be helping."

Was that why I had been sent straight to Helga? I didn't get an answer before Sigurd led the way into a large tent, already filled with all of his brothers, Halfdan and his brother, Harald, Floki, and a woman warrior I had learned was named Svanhild.

Harald and Halfdan, the closest to the tent's entrance, both nodded curtly at me as I entered. I barely had time to nod back before Bjorn stalked past Sigurd and to me.

"Come," Bjorn ordered. Unlike his brother, Sigurd, Bjorn waited for me to acknowledge and move forward before he led the way. Bjorn kept himself at my side as he led me to the far end of the tent, where I noticed someone I hadn't spotted earlier.

The man was on his knees, his hands tied behind his back. He looked like he hadn't been beaten yet, though there were a few bruises on his face underneath his eye. I glanced to the man to Bjorn to the crowd of people waiting. I made eye contact with Ivar; his blue eyes narrowed.

I looked back to Bjorn. "What do you want to know from him?" I asked.

"The colors he wears." Bjorn replied, speaking to me as if we were speaking of something mundane. "They belong to a royal house, yes?"

I looked back down to the man. He was wearing a doublet of crimson and gold-the colors King Aelle was so fond of. The man looked up to me and Bjorn and his dark eyes narrowed at me.

"You look familiar…?" He said softly. Bjorn ignored him and kept his eyes on me.

"King Aelle usually uses those colors for some of his higher born subjects." I explained, shifting my feet under everyone's gazes. "This man might possibly be a member of the king's court. Where'd you capture him?"

"You don't need to know," Harald was saying right as Hvitserk spoke.

"He was riding with a small guard." Hvitserk spoke right over Harald. The man with tattoos on his face glared hard at Hvitserk and curled his lip at him.

"He was better dressed than the people at the inn you were at, Augusta." Ubbe explained further. He gave me a shrug and nudged the closest brother-Ivar-with his elbow. "We figured he might be someone of importance."

I gave Bjorn a nervous glance before stepping in front of him and slowly crouching down to be right in front of the man who was probably a lord of some sort.

"Hi," I started in his own language. He blinked and made sudden eye contact with me. "They need to know your name. And who you are."

The man stared at me for a long moment and at first I thought he wasn't going to say anything, but then, "I am Theobald of Northumbria. I serve his majesty, King Aelle. He sent me with a message to his cousin, Kenton the Duke of Bamburgh."

I blinked and for a moment, I felt my heart stop. "What-what was the message?"

Theobald looked to somewhere over my shoulder, where I assumed the Vikings were watching him like a hawk. When he looked back to me, he sighed. "I don't want to die, my lady."

"Just tell me what the message was." I said again. I didn't want to promise that he'd be safe; not with these people behind me.

Theobald sighed heavily and shook his head before looking back to me. "The Duke's wife was supposed to get to the king's castle this morning. Queen Ealhswith was so worried this morning, she was bedridden for the rest of the day."

I stood up and turned to Bjorn. "He's a messenger of King Aelle's. I was supposed to arrive there this morning. The king and queen sent him to tell the duke that I hadn't arrived."

Harald and Halfdan looked at each other. Floki made a small hissing noise to himself while Hvitserk muttered something to Sigurd and Svanhild. Ivar was still staring at me.

Bjorn nodded at my words before turning back to Theobald, who was crying. "Ask him how far we are from their castle and city." I mirrored Bjorn and repeated the question in Saxon.

Theobald stopped crying long enough to stare hard at me. "How could you join sides with them?" He asked quietly. I felt my body stiffen as Theobald shifted too. "They killed the guard escorting me to Bamburgh. They're _slaughtering_ our people! You're even dressed like them!"

"Augusta?" Bjorn's voice sounded from beside me. I flinched at the sound and hurried to my knees in front of Theobald.

"I need you to answer the question." I pleaded with him. "How far are we from King-"

"Oh Lord," Theobald interrupted me with his soft voice. "Augusta?" The sound of my own name sent a wave of cold down my back. Theobald looked back to Bjorn and then back to me. "He called you Augusta-that's the duke's wife's name-"

"What's he saying, Augusta?" Ivar's voice came from behind me.

Theobald entire demeanor had changed from scared to _angry_ , furious even. He shifted his knees so that he was a little closer. "You...you...you traitorous hag!" He screeched and I barely had time to react before he rammed his head forward and into my face.

I let out a cry of pain as he came in contact hard with my nose. There was a flurry of movement I didn't see, but I felt Bjorn launch forward and onto Theobald, followed quickly by the dull sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

A pair of hands grabbed onto me and pulled me backwards. The moment I felt legs sprawled underneath me was the moment I knew it was Ivar who had dragged me away. I blinked several times as everything calmed back down again. Bjorn had gotten off Theobald, and Ubbe and Sigurd had both moved to their older brothers shoulder. Svanhild had a hand on the hilt of her sword, while the brothers remained at the tent's opening, looking fairly amused. Floki was glaring slightly at me and Ivar, while Hvitserk calmly strode over and held out his hands.

"Get off the floor, Augusta." Hvitserk said calmly. I felt Ivar's hands pat my sides as he released them and I took Hvitserk's hands. He pulled me to my feet and patted my shoulder briefly before letting go of my hands and looking down to Ivar. "You want help, brother?"

Ivar didn't get to reply because Hvitserk was already moving forward and lifting his younger brother under his arms and leaning him against the chair Ivar had been sitting in earlier. Svanhild approached me and grabbed my chin.

"Your nose is broken." She observed before letting me go. "You'll live."

I looked back to Theobald, and the messenger was still on the ground, his face now bloody. Bjorn left Theobald and looked to me. "I take it as he wasn't telling you about the castle?"

I shook my head, and then paused due to the room suddenly spinning. "He heard you say my name and recognized me. That's why...that happened." Bjorn nodded and glanced at the unconscious Theobald.

"I don't think he'll be awake for more questioning." Bjorn said, his voice raising slightly to address the rest of the tent. Sensing the dismissal, Svanhild left first and Harald and Halfdan left after her. Bjorn watched them leave before turning to me. "You did good, Augusta. We'll figure out something for your name later. You can go back to Helga, see if she can take care of your nose."

I tentatively touched my nose and immediately regretted it. Blood was on my fingertips when I pulled my hand away. I felt Ivar's hand grab at my elbow.

"Follow me." Ivar said shortly before heaving himself to the ground and dragging himself away. I glanced back to the others, but none of them were really paying attention to me anymore. I went after Ivar right as he was exiting the tent.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Not far." Ivar replied as he dragged himself into a neighboring tent. I glanced around at the other Vikings before I entered the tent. None of them were paying attention.

I was clearly in Ivar's own living space. He heaved himself onto his bed and patted the spot beside him. I sat down beside him and he reached out before stopping himself.

"I'm about to grab your face." He said matter-of-factly. "To see how bad your nose is."

"Oh, okay." I said, feeling my face heat up as he took ahold of my jaw and pulling it closer to him. I focused my gaze on Ivar's chin, not knowing what else to look at right now. Ivar used the sleeve from his free hand to wipe away the blood, as gently as he could. I couldn't help but stare at that sleeve when he finally pulled that hand away, keeping his other hand locked on my jaw and keeping my face angled towards him. I risked a glance at Ivar's eyes and saw that he was staring intently at my nose.

"It's not broken." Ivar finally said. "Svanhild knows nothing." The way he said her name was bitter, the same way he said Kenton's name. I blinked at that as he gently let go of my face.

"You don't like her?" I asked.

"She's a representative." Ivar said coldly. "Lagertha couldn't make it, so she sent Svanhild and a few dozen others to fight for Ragnar's death." If he said Kenton and Svanhild's names with spite, it was nothing compared to the heat he had reserved for this Lagertha.

"What did Lagertha do?" I asked. "You clearly hate her for some reason."

Ivar locked eyes with me and I forced myself not to back down from the fire that was burning blue in his eyes.

"She murdered my mother." Ivar said in a dark voice. "Killed her in cold blood for the throne in Kattegat." Ivar stopped and, underneath all the rage he was feeling, I could see the grief that was there.

I thought of Constance, dead before her time, always motherly and kind to her child. Judith came to mind, how she loved both Aethelred and Alfred. I felt my hands lift up before I stopped myself. Ivar had noticed the small movement and frowned at me.

"I'm going to hug you." I told him, echoing his way of speaking back to him. "From someone who lost their mother to another. Is that okay?"

Ivar had the decency to look surprised before nodding. I didn't allow myself to feel any sort of awkward before rushing forward and hugging him. There was a slight pause before Ivar's arms wrapped around my back and I felt him press his face into my shoulder. I smiled to myself for a moment, realizing that this was... _nice_.

When Ivar and I finally let go of each other, I moved back a little, back to my original spot. "I truly am sorry about your mother, Ivar." I said. Ivar nodded jerkily as I stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to Helga. I'm sure she's wondering what became of me."

Ivar opened his mouth to argue probably, before closing it and nodding. I bid him a quick goodnight before hurrying out of the tent. Why was my heart racing? A hug was a downgrade from him pinning me down the other night, I told myself.

Even so, the fact didn't stop the smile I had to fight off my aching face as I went back to Helga's tent.


	11. 11: Lost

Fresh bread during the winter was a rarity. I held it in my small hands gingerly, as if I half expected it to fade away into nothing. I looked up and saw Constance smiling down at me.

"Eat it, Augusta." Constance had said gently, her smile seemingly making the room brighter. "Manfred made it specially for us." I distinctly remembered my mother's blush at the mention of the baker's name, but my six year old mind hadn't comprehended what was happening. All I knew was that my mother was happy, and we had fresh bread that was fluffy.

When we had finished eating the bread, Constance swooped down and scooped me into her arms. Her arms were strong from a lifetime of cleaning and lifting, and from working the land before that. My shrill and childlike giggle sounded far away, and so did her laugh. Her laugh came to my ears muted and distant.

What had Mother's laugh sounded like?

And then she dropped me and I landed heavily in bed.

"Augusta!" Helga's voice snapped me back to reality and I rushed to my feet. Tanaruz was standing by the tent's entrance, her dark eyes wide and scared. Helga was dashing around the tent, throwing things into chests and stamping on the dying fire every time she passed it.

"What's happening?" I asked, rushing over to Helga.

"That king's army has been sighted." Helga stopped for a moment to breathe heavily. "They're heading this way. Bjorn, Ivar, the rest of them, they're all leading them to meet the Saxon army. Floki's already gone-"

Helga broke off with a dry sob and she fell to her knees. I blinked at the sight of Helga crying and gave Tanaruz a look before getting to my knees with Helga. I awkwardly put my arm around her and made a shushing noise.

"Floki will be fine, Helga." I said, not knowing if that was true. Helga looked to me with wet eyes.

"Augusta, if I lose him…" She started but couldn't finish. Her eyes welled with tears again and I quickly hugged her tight before she could start sobbing again. Tanaruz watched from the tent's entrance, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Find someone." I told her in Frankish. The young girl stared blankly at me. "Find someone to help her." I tried again in Latin. She continued to stare. I let out a hiss of frustration before getting to my feet, gently pulling Helga with me.

"Helga," I said, looking the older woman in the face. "I have no idea what to do while the fighting's happening. What happens?"

Before Helga could answer, Floki stalked right into the tent. Helga quickly abandoned me and rushed to Floki. I watched in confused silence as the two pressed foreheads together, Helga whispering something at breakneck speed. Floki kissed her hard before finally looking up to me.

"Bjorn needs you up front." Floki said bluntly.

I stared at him, feeling everything stop around me. "Um, I can't fight, Floki."

"I don't care, Christian." Floki snapped. "Follow me." I practically ran after him, not bothering to correct him about the Christian thing.

The five brothers were far away this time, instead of the center of the army. Ivar sat inside a chariot that was being drawn by a white steed. The other four surrounded the chariot and they seemed to be discussing something of importance. But then Ubbe looked up when Floki and I got close enough and Bjorn stalked to me.

"Bjorn, I have no idea how to fight." I said the moment he was within earshot.

Bjorn blinked and shook his head. "Who said you'd be fighting? Never mind that. If all goes well, we'll have use of you nearby. Our father died in these woods; we simply want to bring the king back to where he murdered our father."

A wave of cold went down my body at what Bjorn's vague plan was.

"Also," Bjorn continued. "To avoid the reaction we had with that messenger, as long as you're in front of other Saxons, we're calling you Runa. It's a random name, but it's Viking. That way you don't end up getting killed by a common Saxon." He said this while turning to give the assembled brothers behind him a pointed look. I couldn't help but notice that Ivar was the only who reacted to this look by staring defiantly back.

"That's a good plan, Bjorn." I said. "But King Aelle definitely knows who I am and what I look like. A different name won't change anything."

"We're not looking to trick King Aelle." Ubbe piped in from his spot beside Hvitserk.

Bjorn nodded in agreement. "If all goes well today, Augusta, King Aelle will be dead by nightfall."

* * *

The area of woods didn't look that special at first glance, but that changed the moment I had entered the clearing. A heavy and dark feeling surrounded the clearing, something I couldn't see or hear or smell, but I could feel it. Like a gown of the thinnest silk that rested on your skin and left an imprint whenever it was removed.

The sound of the fighting was a faraway thing, much like Constance's laugh from my dream. I looked up to the branches of the trees surrounding me and found no birds; they must've scattered far away from the area once the two armies clashed. I would have if I had the ability to.

Trygve cursed softly behind me. I looked back to the Viking who had been ordered to guard me. Helga and several of the camp followers were farther behind. Trygve and I had been told to find this clearing and wait for Ragnar's sons to join us.

Trygve was an older Viking, and was unlike anyone I had ever seen. His skin had a dusky tone to it, and his eyes were small and liquid black. But he dressed in armor like a Viking, he wore a braid like a Viking, and I had heard him invoke Odin's name the way a Viking would. He had briefly told me that his mother had been pregnant with him when she had been taken into slavery. He had been born in Norway and was given a Viking name for it.

I felt like there was more to the old man's story, but he was too busy inspecting the clearing to be bothered. I heard the gentle rumble of thunder over the distant sound of fighting and looked up. The clouds were dark gray, promising rain. I drew the hood of my cloak over my dark hair and wrapped myself even tighter in the black cloak.

"Are you well, Runa?" Trygve asked as I slowly approached him. I blinked and nodded, caught off guard the moment I heard the new name Bjorn had introduced me as.

"I'm okay, I think." I said quietly. "Nervous."

Trygve blinked his small eyes and looked off into the distance. "You may not have to worry anymore. Listen."

I did and sucked in my breath when I heard that the sounds of battle were no longer there. The thunder rolled again, louder this time.

Trygve smiled to himself, revealing a missing tooth in his smile. "Thor has had his say. I believe we've won, Runa." I envied his faith in his gods in that moment. If only I could find comfort in the sound of thunder.

We stood underneath a large tree for several minutes. A raven cawed loudly overheard and when I lifted my head to look, it cawed again, seemingly right at me. Before I could think anything else about it, the raven took flight and flew away.

The beating of hooves echoed in my ears for a moment before the white steed burst into the clearing, pulling Ivar's chariot behind him. I stared at Ivar's figure in the chariot, his face covered by helmet and cloth. It wasn't until I saw something dragging behind the chariot did I remember to breathe again.

King Aelle was being dragged by the chariot, his feet bound and his face muddy and cut up. Trygve gave me an "I told you so" look before leaving me to join some of the Vikings hurrying after the chariot. I stared after him as a familiar form-Sigurd-rushed forward and cut King Aelle's feet free. And then I couldn't see the old king at all as every Viking rushed forward.

"We won!" Hvitserk called out, bounding towards me with a wide smile on his face. My first instinct was to take several steps backward as he rushed towards me. His face was red with blood, as was everything else about him. Hvitserk either didn't notice my fearful instinct or didn't care because he crashed right into me and lifted me off of my feet with his embrace.

When I was back on my feet, Hvitserk bounded past me, seemingly overjoyed with the defeat of my countrymen. Ubbe quickly replaced him though and the older man tugged playfully at my hood.

"It was a great victory, _Runa._ " Ubbe gave me a wink when he said the Viking name given to me. "But now is time for the greater victory." When Ubbe left me, I pressed my back against the tree and drew farther back into the black cloak.

 _Breathe already, you fool._ The bitter voice in my head snapped. I let out a shaky breath and clasped my hands together underneath the cloak. I could feel my body shaking violently. Victory meant so many Saxons were dead. Defeat meant so many Vikings would've died. What side did I want to be on? The side with life was the Viking side-no one would believe me if I said I was a guest among Vikings. If the Vikings lost the war...they if lost the war…

I'd be left the mercy of a husband who was probably thinking the worst.

"Are you okay?"

I flinched at the sound of Ivar's voice. He had crawled out of his chariot and was looking to me, his brow furrowed. I nodded my head jerkily. "I'm fine, Ivar."

"No you're not." He said bluntly. I stared down at him and he stared back with stubbornness.

"I'm not myself anymore, Ivar." I said quietly, so quiet I didn't think he heard me at first. "I would not recognize myself if I saw myself standing here. And now my name is no longer my name-" I cut myself off when Ivar's hand shot out and grabbed a hold of the borrowed dress. He gently tugged and I quickly got the hint to sit down beside him.

"Fine." He said. "To them-" He pointed out at the crowd of Vikings, still crowded around King Aelle. "You are Runa. To me, you'll always be Augusta. Nothing else. Sound good?"

There wasn't much else he could do, I knew, but calling me by my name seemed like bliss right now. I nodded and the corner of Ivar's mouth went up. He grabbed my closest hand with one of his and patted it with his other hand. I smiled at the gesture right before Bjorn was suddenly there.

"I need a phrase in Saxon." Bjorn said sharply. Ivar left to join his brothers while I hastily taught Bjorn a simple sentence, one that made no sense to me.

When the crowd was done tormenting King Aelle, Sigurd tied his hands behind his back and hauled him closer to the tree I was sitting at. They stopped short of it and Bjorn left me to stand a few feet away from them. Ubbe stood at Bjorn's shoulder. Hvitserk and Ivar were next to each other. They looked to have formed a semi circle around nothing, and I stared at the ground in front of them, not seeing the significance.

Floki stalked up and pointed at the ground in front of them silently, glaring at King Aelle. The old king nodded, his chins jiggling. Floki then grabbed two other Vikings and I watched with horror as a trap door was revealed, showing the hole in the earth. The brothers surrounding it took a collective step forward before recoiling, their faces scowled and fury morphing all of their faces.

I blinked. Just minutes ago, Hvitserk had been running about, still excited from the battle. Ubbe had been playful. But now they all looked ready to kill again. I felt cold again when I realized that Ragnar Lothbrok must've been inside that hole.

"How the little piggies will grunt," Bjorn said in Saxon. "When they hear how the old boar suffered."

Though his words were choppy and thick from his accent trying to work around the Saxon words, his message was clearly received. King Aelle blanched and his knees buckled. Sigurd snarled a curse and forced the old man to remain standing.

"Please," King Aelle whimpered. "How much do you want? I will pay as much silver and gold it takes to make you go away. Please…"

The sons of Ragnar stared at him for a long moment before Ubbe slowly looked to me and flicked his hand, gesturing for me to join them. I exhaled deeply and slowly moved forward, taking the empty spot between Ubbe and Hvitserk.

"He wants to know how much silver and gold it'll take for you to take the army and leave." I translated, only making my voice loud enough for the people surrounding the hole to hear. I refused to look down at the hole-I didn't need to see Ragnar Lothbrok rotting.

I could smell him rotting just fine.

"Our father was worth more than silver and gold." Ivar snapped, giving the old king a dark look. But King Aelle wasn't looking at Ivar or any of the brothers. He was looking right at me.

The king's face was suddenly stoic and unforgiving. "The last time I saw you, you were a fourteen year old girl having your first monthly bleed. I told King Ecbert he should've married you off then and there. Maybe you wouldn't be taking up with fucking Vikings, you traitorous cunt."

I flinched at his words and the king persisted. "Does Kenton know? Your _husband_? You'll burn in Hell for this. God Almighty Himself will cast you down along with the other harlots and heathens-"

"Shut him up!" Ivar suddenly shouted. Sigurd obliged by throwing his fist into King Aelle's large gut. I flinched again and glanced down to Ivar, who was staring at me, his eyebrows upturned with worry.

None of them knew what was said, but they didn't need a translation to understand the tone. Hvitserk was the first to move and gently grabbed my elbow to move me back underneath the tree. Bjorn called out to any nearby Vikings to construct something for whatever a blood eagle was.


	12. 12: Blood Eagles

The platform needed for the blood eagle was completed just as the sun set. I had no idea what a blood eagle was, but by looking at the two raised posts on the platform, it didn't look like anything good.

King Aelle was dragged onto the platform and his hands were positioned on the posts. I found myself right across from his face, and the old king was quick to make eye contact with me.

"What're they doing?" He shouted at me. "Bastard! Answer your king!"

I took a small step back so that I was more in Floki's shadow. Ivar, sitting next to Floki, craned his neck towards me and gestured me to come closer.

"Do not be afraid." Ivar said. I took the smallest step forward until I was between Ivar and Floki. For the most part, Floki was ignoring the fact that we were standing so close.

When an unknown Viking started nailing King Aelle's left hand into the post, my first instinct was to scream. Instead I covered my mouth and bit down hard on my bottom lip. King Aelle's howls of agony were bouncing around in my head. Three hits with hammer, and the Viking went to the king's other hand to nail that one down too.

"Heaven help me!" King Aelle wailed out. I tightened my jaw and pulled my hood farther onto my head. I wanted to block this out as much as I could.

When I looked again, it was right in time to see Bjorn plunge a red hot dagger into the king's back. I grit my teeth even tighter as the king screamed his heart out. Bjorn stabbed the dagger into the post and for a moment, I couldn't really tell what he was doing to cause the king so much pain. But then I saw his hands moving and I felt light headed.

He was skinning King Aelle's back open.

I couldn't help but stare in horror as the two massive flaps of skin hung limply on either side of King Aelle. Ubbe handed Bjorn an ax and I didn't have time to recover before Bjorn brought the ax down on the king's flayed back.

An ache started right behind my temples as the king howled in agony. Bjorn brought the ax down again and again, dark red blood flying through the air and slapping Bjorn in the face. Dark blood was spilling from King Aelle's mouth as his screams started getting fainter and less frequent.

Ivar started crawling towards King Aelle's dying form as the king let out another faint cry of pain. Ivar stopped just short of the king's face and I saw their eyes meet. I kept watching King Aelle's face and eyes as Bjorn continued hacking at his ribcage. I watched the light fade from the king's eyes.

King Aelle was dead.

* * *

The body was hung between two trees the next morning at dawn. I stared for a long time at King Aelle's body, knowing that this was his final resting place. According to Ivar, King Aelle hadn't been given proper respect in death, so neither should King Aelle.

Trygve had assured me that King Aelle wouldn't be in Valhalla, as he had screamed during the blood eagle. I had stared at the old Viking and wondered to myself how it would be possible to not scream out during that death.

"Augusta." Ivar's voice snapped me out of my trance and I looked to him sitting in his chariot. "We need you in the war tent."

I blinked. "Really? I'm wanted on a war meeting?"

"Not an official one." Ivar told me. "Just a small one with me and my brothers. Get in."

"Get in the chariot?"

Ivar rolled his eyes. "Yes. Now come on. We don't have time to ask twenty questions. It'll be faster if we rode together."

Despite its looks from the outside, the chariot was not that big. Ivar shifted as much as he possibly could to give me room, and I still ended up pressed into his arm. And that was when I noticed.

Ivar was big.

Every time I had previously seen Ivar, or been near him, he was either sitting or crawling. Now he was semi-standing, supporting himself by leaning heavily on the chariot's edge. And he was so tall I just made it past his shoulders, which were incredibly broad.

A mental image of Ragnar and each of his sons came to mind, how every one of them were tall with broad, strong shoulders. Ivar had not been skipped when it came to his father's features. I looked up to Ivar's face and saw that he was a faint pink.

My face felt like it'd probably be red.

Ivar didn't say anything as he wrapped his arm around me and grabbing onto the chariot's side behind me. He wasn't looking at me when he said, "I need to hold myself up."

"You're okay, Ivar." I told him. "Do whatever you have to." Ivar nodded once before flicking the reins with his free hand and I held on tight as the chariot jerked forward.

The ride in the chariot wasn't a long one, but it felt long because I spent it squeezed underneath Ivar's arm. The entire time I could feel his muscles remain tight and tensed behind me. By the time we reached the war tent, my knees were shaking. And it had nothing to do with the jerky chariot ride.

I led the way into the war tent and held the flap open for Ivar as he crawled behind me. A table was set up in the middle of the tent, and Bjorn was already standing there. Sigurd was near the corner and Ubbe and Hvitserk were nowhere to be seen.

"Come here, Augusta." Bjorn said without looking at me. I listened to him and tentatively took the spot by Bjorn's side. A large map was spread out on the table and Bjorn pointed to a spot in Northumbria. "We are here, correct?"

I looked to where he was pointing and shook my head. I gently grabbed Bjorn's wrist with my fingertips and pulled his still pointing finger an inch to the right. "There."

"Where is King Aelle's castle on here?" Sigurd asked, finally breaking his silence. I pointed it out on the map and Ubbe and Hvitserk quickly entered the tent. Ubbe rushed over and took my other side, brushing against my side.

I looked up to Bjorn. "Keep in mind that you did just defeat them in battle. King Aelle's castle is going to be at its strongest."

"Then where do we go from here, Saxon?" Ubbe asked, looking down at me from over his nose.

"I say we go to King Ecbert's." Ivar said, correctly pointing out Winchester on the map. Ivar gave me a brief glance. "Sorry Augusta, but your father was the one who handed our father to King Aelle. He is just as guilty for Father's death."

I stared at Ivar and tried to think of a rebuff to that. Hvitserk leaned forward and walked two of his fingers across the map, going between Winchester and where we were in Northumbria. "It doesn't look like there are major cities between them." Hvitserk pointed out. "It'd be a straight shot."

Bjorn made a noise from the back of his throat that made it sound like he was seriously thinking about it. I watched them all talk amongst themselves and shook my head. "What exactly are planning to do to Winchester?" I asked no one in particular. "Are you planning on doing another blood eagle? To my father?"

I got silence in reply. Sigurd sighed heavily and looked around the table. "Why is she here?" He asked.

Bjorn opened his mouth to answer, but Ivar cut him off. "She is here because she is Saxon. She knows this land much more than we ever could."

"Thank you for that, Ivar." Sigurd said in a bored tone. "We all know why you really want her here."

"Would you two stop?" Bjorn snapped. I put all of my focus on the spot on the map that was Winchester.

"What about this place?" Hvitserk asked a little too loudly, his attempt to change his subject obvious. I followed his finger and saw that he was pointing at York.

"York's a big city." I said after clearing my throat. "I've only been there once, but I remember that its walls are strong and well protected." What else could I say about York? "If you took the city, it'd be a major hit against the Saxons."

Ubbe looked over my head to Bjorn. "York is closer than Winchester."

Bjorn looked at each face except mine and shook his head, causing his braid to sway. "We came here for revenge. King Ecbert is just as guilty as King Aelle, like Ivar said." Bjorn paused and continued to not look at me. "I don't plan to continue this war once King Ecbert is dead. I want revenge for our father and nothing more. Whatever you plan on doing after Winchester, plan it once we're done."

With that said, Bjorn stalked away and out of the tent. For a moment, his brothers stared after him and no one said nothing. Sigurd finally gave me a look that could've meant anything before muttering a brief goodbye and leaving. Ubbe's mouth was a thin line, but he couldn't really say anything. He and Hvitserk left together and I finally looked to Ivar.

"Did you know that you'd be deciding on whether you were killing my father?" I asked. "Before we got here?"

Ivar stared at me for a moment. "I knew it was a possibility."

I grit my teeth and found myself glaring hard at him. "And how did that bright idea get into your head?" I couldn't even try and hide the heat that crept into my voice. Ivar blinked and for a moment his eyes flashed at me. Before he could try and defend himself, I whipped around and stalked out of the tent.


	13. 13: Freyja and Od

The journey to Winchester in Wessex was a familiar one. Just a few months ago, I had been traveling north with a new husband to start a life with him. And now I was traveling south with Vikings who were intent on killing my family.

I knew they wouldn't stop with just killing Father. Aethelwulf would lead all of the guards into fighting back, and since he led the charge, he would be killed. Aethelred and Alfred would probably fight as well, both being princes and heirs to Ecbert's throne. As for Judith...I had no idea.

Helga was quick to notice that something was off with me. When she finally convinced me to tell her, she listened in silence and nodded when I finished. "I'm sorry, Augusta. I truly am." She then hugged me tightly, and it didn't take me long to hug her back. It had been so long since someone had tried comforting me.

That was when Floki walked in and glared at me. It seemed that the Viking still had no trust for me. He snorted and squatted beside Tanaruz, handing a fat apple to the young girl.

We kept moving south. Every now and then Bjorn would double check with me to make sure he was reading the map correctly.

"You could try learning a bit of the Saxon language." I suggested. "That way you're not completely dependant on me to translate."

"If we knew how to speak Saxon, we'd have no use of you, Augusta." Bjorn said dismissively. "If we have no use of you, why would we keep you alive?"

That ended that conversation.

A distant part of my brain told me that they wouldn't kill me. I hadn't done any ill will to Ragnar Lothbrok, I hadn't made any attempt to leave, and I had been helpful for the most part. But even still, I didn't make it a suggestion again to any of the other brothers.

I could tell that the others at least felt sorry for me. Ubbe walked with me for an entire day of travel, getting to know me and asking about how it was like growing up in Winchester. Ubbe was friendly, and did spend a long amount of time trying to make me laugh.

"You must've met my father," Ubbe said at some point. "He had been to visit your father a couple of times."

I had nodded. "I did get to meet him. I remember. Back before my mother died, when I lived with her, everyone still knew King Ecbert was my father. One day, while Ragnar Lothbrok was in Winchester, I was playing near the castle. I don't remember when they spotted me, but the next thing I knew, a man I had never seen before was sitting in front of me with the ball I had been playing with. At first I was afraid, but then he spoke with such a weird way that I immediately started laughing.

"Your father sat me on his shoulders and walked around the courtyard." I told Ubbe. "He was still speaking to King Ecbert about this, that, or the other, but to me I didn't care. I was suddenly tall." I paused and let out a short laugh. "My mother nearly died of fright when Ragnar eventually carried me back home and dropped me off."

Ubbe laughed along with me and he smiled softly. "Sounds like something my father would've done. He loved children."

Ivar and I seemed to be on less than friendly terms. We still spoke, but whenever we did it was tense. Not like how we used to be. I found myself missing it more than I probably should've.

Every now and then on the journey south, I found my mind wandering to Kenton. Surely with the recent battle against King Aelle, Kenton was no longer at Bamburgh. Had he fought in the battle against King Aelle? If he did, it was entirely possible for him to have been slain and no one knowing it…

If Kenton and his advisors were smart, they'd have headed south the moment they saw that the Vikings were going west towards King Aelle. They could've cut off the Vikings as they headed to Winchester, made up a good defense to protect the city. Or they could've made it to York by now. I had been living with the Vikings for almost three weeks now; Kenton could've gotten far with that amount of time.

Did he even know what had happened to me? King Aelle's messenger never reached him; the messenger had been killed soon after his use was done. Kenton most likely thought I was either dead or captured.

I looked down to the clothes I was wearing. A borrowed dress from Helga of green and blue, a leather belt wrapped around my waist. My long hair had been brought back into a single braid down my back, just to keep it out of the way. I looked Viking to myself. If Kenton saw me, he definitely wouldn't recognize me. Did he even care what was happening to me?

Hopefully he was being smart. Above all else, I wanted him to be smart when it came to fighting the Vikings.

On the journey south, I made it a point to try and get to know some of the people I was traveling with. Trygve was helpful with this, and he introduced me to his lover, a younger shieldmaiden named Berglijot. The woman looked to be about ten years younger than Trygve, but she was still fifteen years older than I.

Berglijot was a tall woman, like Helga, but unlike Helga I could tell that Berglijot had spent some time in the middle of the battles. She was very muscular and half of her fawn colored hair was shaved off. Like Helga, her eyes were rimmed with kohl and they were ice blue. Berglijot had smiled brightly at me when Trygve brought me over and she spoke with such an accent it took me a long moment to understand her.

Trygve laughed at me. "My love comes from a land to the far north. A land where Freyja's lights touch the ground and you can hear the Valkyries cry out and sing."

I blinked and a familiar feeling filled my belly. Freyja must've been one of the Viking gods, as for the Valkyries, I had no idea. Trygve was one of the most faithful people I had met, but he was faithful towards his own gods. I left the two of them by their fire when Trygve and Berglijot became so distracted with each other that they started ignoring me.

Like Ivar all that time ago, both Trygve and Berglijot believed in beings larger than themselves. I kicked a rock all the way back to Helga's tent that night, silently brewing in envy of their faith and my own family's faith.

It took me a couple of days to bully myself into it, but I approached Ivar one evening after camp had been made. He was alone in his tent and he went bent over some papers with unfamiliar runes on them. Ivar looked up when I entered and he blinked at me.

"What do you want?" He asked.

I shuffled my feet. "Do you remember how when we first met, you told me a little about your gods?"

"Of course." Ivar replied, instantly looking a bit more comfortable. "Why?"

"Trygve and Berglijot mentioned one of them a couple of nights ago." I said. "Freyja?" The name sounded foreign on my tongue. "I was wondering if you could tell me about them. And the Valkyries; Trygve mentioned them too."

Ivar was quick to lead me to a nearby campfire where a few other Vikings were already sitting, including Hvitserk. The Vikings gave Ivar a greeting while simultaneously ignoring me following him.

"Ingimarr and his wife, Ranveig." Ivar pointed to the couple, the man pale skinned and the woman darker skinned like Tanaruz, sitting on the other side of Hvitserk. The couple both nodded to me and I nodded back as I sat down between the brothers. Ivar turned pointed to the man directly across from us. "That is Earl Frode Hemmingsson. And that is his eldest son, Ove."

Frode was a large and barrel chested warrior and the young boy beside him was a muted version of his father. Strong, yes, but Ove was a lot thinner while Frode was the size of a boulder.

"Good to finally meet you," Frode bowed his great blond head. "Your name is Runa, yes? I have heard different names referring to you."

I smiled softly at the giant man. "Runa is okay. Thank you for asking."

"We came to hear stories of Freyja, Earl Frode." Ivar explained to the giant man. "Who better to tell them?"

Frode's eyes positively lit up. "I am honored!" He boomed. There was a collective bout of laughter around the campfire as Frode shot up to his feet and nearly knocked over Ove. "You are in for a treat, Saxon."

Hvitserk leaned over to me. "Earl Frode is rumored to be the son of a giantess from Jotunheim. That's why he's the size of a house." I nodded as if that place meant something to me and Hvitserk smirked at me.

Frode smiled brightly at everyone sitting around his fire and began. "We want to hear of Freyja, yes? Yes, the beautiful goddess of love and beauty and war and death. Yes Saxon, she is a goddess of all those things! Freyja rides her chariot pulled by giant cats over battlefields with her Valkyries behind her, and together they pluck the dead up. Freyja chooses some noble dead to go to her hall of Sessrumnir, while other brave deaths will follow the Valkyries to Valhalla to drink and fight and feast and fuck for an eternity!"

Ingimarr and Ranveig and Ove and Hvitserk all let out whoops. Frode winked at me and continued. "But our Freyja, our goddess of all those wonderful things, she is a lover. She loves fucking just as much as her lovers _love_ fucking her." Frode paused and looked to the sky and mumbled a quick apology, much to the humor of those around us. Frode then looked back to us. "She is still married however, to a god named Od. They were married and it was a blissful few weeks for the newlyweds, in the way that is only blissful for newlyweds."

Frode gave a giant wink to Ingimarr and Ranveig. The couple responoded by turning to each other and locking lips, kissing each other deeply while Frode tapped his foot and waited for them to be finished. When they did, Frode continued with a broad smile still on his face.

"But then, Od suddenly vanished." Frode said, making his voice go dark and mysterious. I found myself smiling without thinking. "Freyja searched high and wide for her beloved husband, but to no avail. She cried tears of gold, weeping while she searched. But she refused to give up hope. She was convinced that Od was alive. Using her falcon feathered cloak, she flew across the world, continuing her search for Od.

"When she finally found Od, for she eventually did find him," Frode was circling the campfire to speak to everyone in the face. "She found him adrift in the sea. Od had turned into a sea monster! He was hideous and convinced that his beautiful wife would never want him again. But, Freyja surprised him by staying by his side and kissing his monstrous cheeks."

I felt Ivar's hand brush against mine as he settled farther into his seat. I felt my face heat up and made myself focus on Frode's storytelling.

Frode sighed heavily. "But, their happy time together was not meant to last. A mortal fisherman spotted the sea monster that was Od and slew him, thinking he just won himself some glory. Freyja was beside herself with fury. She raged and screamed and probably struck that mortal fisherman down where he stood. Poor fucker must've gone to Hel wondering what had just happened.

"Freyja went to visit Valhalla, despite the fact that Od had not fallen in battle." Frode continued, resuming his original spot and taking his original seat. "And to her delight, Od was there. Her husband was there and waiting for her to visit him. And on the bright side, the goddess is allowed to visit Od as much as she wants. The husband and wife are not separated in death, as Freyja had once feared."

Frode had such an engaging way of telling the story that I found that I had been smiling the whole time. By the time the fire had gone low, Frode told more random stories about Freyja and dwarves and the Valkyries. I ate my dinner around that campfire with a story about Valkyries picking up the noble dead and taking them home to Valhalla.

Before I left the dying fire to go sleep in Helga's tent, Ivar grabbed my sleeve and stopped me. "Are you still angry with me?" He asked.

I pretended to think about for a moment. "I don't think so." I replied. Ivar let me go then and I kicked another rock all the way back to the tent, thinking of whether or not Valkyries would pick up Aethelwulf if he died nobly in battle.


	14. 14: Pick a Side

War horns sounded and woke me. Helga and I moved quickly, breaking down the tent and getting ready. Once again, Ivar found me and pulled me into his chariot and drove us to the frontlines.

I dismounted the chariot when it came to a halt and I walked over to Bjorn, who was glaring hard at the growing mass of Saxon soldiers just on the other side of the field. I followed his gaze and felt myself freeze when I saw the banners.

"I take it as you recognize them, Saxon?" Sigurd asked from nearby. He had seen my reaction. I swallowed hard and nodded briefly.

"That's the sigil of Winchester." I told them quietly. "Those are my brother's banners." Despite myself, I found myself scanning the line of Saxons far away from us. Where was Aethelwulf? Were Aethelred and Alfred there? Alfred was sixteen, Ivar's age. Aethelred was older than I, surely he might've been over there…?

"They're coming this way." Ubbe interrupted my thoughts. I snapped back to attention and sucked in my breath. A small guard were riding out to the middle of the field. The brothers looked between me and the party.

I vaguely remembered something from studying scrolls in the library. I looked up at Bjorn, who was still standing close to my shoulder.

"They want a meeting." I explained. "Before any fighting, they want to discuss terms."

"What terms do they have to possibly discuss?" Ivar asked heatedly.

"My guess is that they don't want to fight." I said, not looking at Ivar and keeping my eyes on the small group of men now waiting in the middle of a field. They were still too far away to see if it was Aethelwulf or anyone else I recognized.

"I say we attack them now." Ivar said. "Take them by surprise."

Bjorn shook his head. "No. Ubbe and Sigurd, come with me. Hvitserk and Ivar, stay here and hold the line. Can you ride a horse?" That last question was directed at me.

I felt a tad insulted but nodded anyway. In a matter of minutes, I was following the three brothers on horseback towards the middle of the field.

It was Aethelwulf who was waiting there. Behind him were a couple of advisors I recognized, a priest, and-my heart fell to my feet-Kenton.

"Augusta?" Kenton spoke first. His eyes were wide and I decided to ignore him by looking at my brother. That was a mistake. Aethelwulf hadn't spoken but his eyes said it all. In them I saw all the hurt and betrayal and fury he was feeling.

Bjorn spoke first. "We were informed that this meant you wanted to speak." He said. "What do you want to speak about?" Then he turned to me.

In Saxon, I said. "He wants to know what it is you want to speak about. They had me explain what this meeting was earlier."

Aethelwulf was fuming. "I did want them to leave Wessex and never come back. But now I want them flayed and beheaded, the same way they killed King Aelle!" He glared some more at me. "Oh yes, we've heard of that, Augusta. But I didn't think you had joined them."

I shook my head. "I haven't joined them."

"You could have fooled me."

"What's he saying, Augusta?" Bjorn asked.

"It's my brother and husband." I explained in Viking. "And right now they're a little distracted as to why I'm here."

Ubbe grunted and Sigurd frowned some more. Bjorn nodded slightly. "Try to keep the conversations short from now on. And tell him that we're impatient. Tell him to give his terms or we will not hesitate."

I quickly translated Bjorn's words for the Saxons. One of Aethelwulf's advisors threw me a dirty look and rode forward slightly to whisper into Aethelwulf's ear. I pretended not to notice the slight: they knew I spoke both languages, and if I heard the advice, I could pass on that information to Bjorn.

"First thing's first," Aethelwulf started. "Leave this land, this island, and _never_ return. No more raiding our lands. All damage and killings will be forgiven so long as you stay far away from here."

I translated and Ubbe gave his older brother a look. "Father wanted to farm this land, to have settlements here." Ubbe reminded Bjorn. "You take these terms, Father's dream is dead."

"Anything else?" Bjorn asked me. I translated the question and I noticed the advisors and priest looking hopeful. Kenton was still silent and staring at me.

Aethelwulf hesitated. "Tell them to give you up. The moment they are off our land, they will no longer be in need for a translator. Tell them to release you from whatever servitude you're in right now, and they'll be free to leave and go home in peace."

I swallowed and looked back to Bjorn. "They'll let you go in peace if I leave you now and go back."

Sigurd snorted. "Ivar will hate that." He looked over his shoulder to the line and against my better judgement, I followed his gaze. Ivar was still in the chariot, glaring down at the meeting happening. Hvitserk was watching at his side.

"Bjorn," Ubbe was continuing. "We can't give up on Father's vision this easily."

"The last settlement that was here was slaughtered, Ubbe." Bjorn snapped. "Have you forgotten?"

"Of course I haven't!" Ubbe snapped back, his blue eyes flashing. "But if we gave up on that vision so quickly, Father's legacy, everything he fought to become would be for nothing! Ragnar Lothbrok deserves better than that, the same way he deserved better than a butcher. These butchers!" Ubbe finished by pointing an accusing finger at Aethelwulf. "You may want to leave this place and continue your own path, but I do not. I want to make sure Ragnar's death meant something."

Sigurd hesitated before saying, "Ubbe is right, Bjorn." And he left that at that. I frowned as I watched the brothers talk amongst themselves. Finally, Bjorn sighed.

"Get back to the line." Bjorn ordered. "All of you." He added the last bit to me, his gaze looking both apologetic and yet, at the same time, cold as ice. I blinked as Sigurd wheeled his horse around and rode back.

"Come on, Augusta." Ubbe said, reaching out to me and gripping my elbow. Kenton started forward at the gesture and Aethelwulf's eyes flashed. I turned my horse around, feeling my heart in my throat as Ubbe made sure to follow me and to make sure I didn't lead the horse somewhere else.

"I want my sister back!" Aethelwulf's voice rang out at me as I made it back to the line. I dismounted and Hvitserk was suddenly at my side, Ivar craning his neck toward me from a few feet away.

"Are you okay, Augusta?" Ivar asked. I nodded and walked towards him in his chariot, Hvitserk moving by my side and sort of blocking me from the sight of the Saxons.

I felt my heart squeeze in my chest and I grabbed a hold of the chariot's side, using it for standing support. It felt as if someone had punched a hole in my chest, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Hvitserk bent lower and pressed his forehead against mine. And I felt Ivar's hand cover mine.

"You're okay." He said. "Was that your brother?"

"Her brother." Bjorn's voice sounded as he rode back up. "And her husband."

Ivar's eyes were suddenly glowing. He gripped at my hand tightly. "Which one?"

"Sigurd, take her back towards the back." Bjorn ordered. "Take control of the archers; keep them ready to fire."

"Which one is her husband?" Ivar asked again.

Hvitserk pressed on my back until I was standing straight again. Sigurd put a hand on my back and started to push me away, not unkindly. As I walked away, I heard Bjorn point out Kenton to Ivar.

"Keep moving, Runa." Sigurd said, using my Viking name. I did as he said, my head swimming. Too many thoughts were going through my head right now, and Sigurd wasn't helping what with his curtness.

"They saw me." I said blankly.

"It's be hard not to." Sigurd pointed out.

"They think I'm one of you."

"Are you not?"

I looked up to Sigurd and he wasn't looking at me. He shrugged. "You have a Viking name, you wear Viking clothes, and I saw you asking around about our gods. You're trying to be Viking, even without realizing it." He paused and gave me a look, piercing me with his mismatching eyes. "You're still doing a shit job at it."

"Oh thank you, Sigurd." I said dryly. Sigurd snorted and we reached the back of the line.

"Get back to the edge of camp." Sigurd ordered. I started doing what he said just as Sigurd called out. "Runa. Keep out of the way. If things work out better for the Saxons, be ready to surrender to them. I know some people will hate it if you got killed by your own people."

"And if you Vikings win?"

Sigurd shrugged. "Then be ready to listen to my brothers bragging about killing your countrymen."

He definitely wasn't trying to calm me down, I knew. But that was just Sigurd. He was curt and rude and aloof. I made it back to the edge of the line and still thought to myself that it was still nice of Sigurd to advise me to prepare for the worst.

I froze and shuddered out a sigh when I realized that I had just called my brother and husband winning the worst.

* * *

 **A/N: Here's a quick chapter for y'all. I'm really enjoying writing this story so far and I really hope y'all are enjoying reading it. Sorry for the little gap in updates, I had a bit of personal stuff to work through. But I'm back and I'm trying to put this story on a schedule! I'll put another author's note on when I have that schedule down.**

 **Either way, thanks for reading and reviewing.**

 **-Katie**


	15. 15: What You Want

By the time the sounds of fighting had stopped, I had chewed my nails down to the bed. Little spots of blood rose on my fingers but I ignored them and scanned the horizon. Regardless of who won, they'd come over that slope. I couldn't hear anything else over than the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I struggled to keep my breathing normal as a figure came over the slope.

I sagged when I recognized Hvitserk, walking rather slowly over the slope. I started forward slowly, cautiously. He was limping. Why was he limping? My pace quickened as I got closer and I only stopped when Hvitserk was within hearing distance.

"What happened?" I asked.

Hvitserk pointed over his shoulder. "Saxons are being led away. Ivar's idea. We've got some hostages. Figured you should talk to them before Bjorn gets back." He extended his hand and grabbed mine, pulling me with him towards the top of the hill. I noticed that his hand was sticky with sweat and blood. Hvitserk was still struggling to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. He was more pulling me along than anything else.

Hvitserk nodded and he flashed me a tired looking smile. "I'm okay, Runa. Most of this isn't my blood."

"Most?"

"I got cut." Hvitserk said between his hard breathing. "Right here." He pointed to a particular dark red patch on his side. "Some Saxon ran me through with a dagger after I lopped his hand off."

I stopped walking. "You need help!"

"I'm fine." Hvitserk assured me, patting the hand he still clutched with his free one. "There are people worse off than me. Now c'mon, Runa. Let's go talk to some hostages."

We reached the top of the hill and I have to stop again. The field below was littered with bodies, from both sides. I covered my mouth with my free hand and Hvitserk flashed me a sympathetic but otherwise impatient look. He kept pulling me along and I swallowed hard, trying to push down my disgust.

There was a small group of men tied together by their wrists, several of them gagged. Hvitserk dropped my hand. "Can you ask them who they fight for first? And then ask them about the strongholds and how fortified they are."

I repeated the first question in Saxon for the hostages. The gagged ones glared daggers at me and a couple others spat in my direction. Hvitserk rolled his eyes.

"Tell them the next one that disrespects you like that gets an open throat." Hvitserk said.

"I don't think that'll make them want to be more helpful." I told him. Hvitserk gave me a look and I found myself rolling my eyes at him. I turned back to the hostages. In Saxon, "He says enough with the spitting at me or he'll slit your throat."

The Saxon closest to me. "You don't deserve respect, you traitorous cunt."

"You know me?" I asked with a frown.

"I was guard at Bamburgh." He snapped. "You were too highborn to notice the guard at the bedroom doors. It took me a moment to recognize you, but I remember. Or at least I remember the sound of your voice. Last time I heard it, you were squealing out as the duke fucked you."

I turned back to Hvitserk. "Give me your dagger."

"What?" He asked.

"Stop speaking Viking you fucking bitch!" The guard from Bamburgh spat at me.

Hvitserk looked between me and the guard from Bamburgh. Without saying a word he stood up and strode forward. I blinked, my sudden anger gone as Hvitserk picked up the guard by the hair. For a moment, Hvitserk and the guard made eye contact, until Hvitserk's dagger flashed and buried itself inside the guard's gut.

I yelped as Hvitserk ripped the dagger out of the man's stomach. The hostages who weren't gagged flinched but kept their mouths shut. Hvitserk shoved the guard's limp body to the ground so that he could bleed out away from him.

Hvitserk turned back to me. "You tell them, you're not Saxon. You're as Viking as I am. You're my friend, and that the next person who fucking spits at you gets the same treatment."

I blinked at Hvitserk saying we were friends but nodded anyway. This time, the hostages listened to me for the most part. They were a mixed bag of Kenton's men, Aethelwulf's men, and the men of a bunch of lesser lords. And, like I thought, they weren't keen on telling me their strongholds.

Hvitserk seemed satisfied though, and I helped him stand up to leave. His wound on his side looked to be bothering him. I helped him off the battlefield and to one of the healers back closer to the treeline.

The wound in Hvitserk's side made me turn away at the sight. The dark red holes there were leaking blood and Hvitserk grimaced when the healer started to patch him up.

Later, a couple more of Ragnar's sons came back, having apparently chased the Saxons far enough away. Bjorn and Sigurd were the ones who didn't come back. Ubbe's arm was bleeding awfully bad, and Ivar had a long slash across his chest. I sucked in my breath at the sight of both injuries.

Ubbe threw his armor and shirts to the ground so that the healer could fix up his arm, the deep gash had barely stopped bleeding in the time he got hurt at the beginning of battle to now. I swallowed and slowly went over to him.

"Ubbe," I started. "Aethelwulf and Kenton...were they-"

"I did not see your brother or husband get hurt, Runa." Ubbe replied. "I lost track of your brother soon after the battle started. I tried to keep an eye on him but, it gets hard to do that in the middle of fighting."

"Thank you for trying, Ubbe." I said, and I meant it.

How many small kindnesses could I possibly get from these men? Sigurd warned me about preparing for the worst, Hvitserk said we were friends, and Ubbe at least tried to watch out for Aethelwulf.

When I saw Ivar getting patched up, his bare chest heaving with deep breaths, I once again had to refrain from turning away, but for a different reason than Ubbe and Hvitserk. I said a hasty goodbye to the trio of them before hurrying away, throwing the hood of my cloak over my head.

What was the matter with me? Ivar shouldn't have this effect on me, I wasn't sure if I liked this effect. My own husband didn't make me feel this flighty and nervous. Was it because Kenton and I had the benefit of an arranged marriage? If I had the choice and if things were different, would I have gone with Ivar-

No. That was crazy talk. If Aethelwulf or Father or Judith or anyone knew the thoughts in my head, I'd be beaten and sent to pray for thinking sinful thoughts. What would happen if I was raised Viking? Was there a god for these feelings? There had to be-someone had to be in charge of it. Freyja was the goddess of a lot of things like war and death and fertility and love…

I didn't love Kenton. I had always known that. Even when he had been inside me, trying to give himself an heir, I had just wanted it over. You weren't supposed to think that about someone you loved.

I didn't love Ivar, I didn't think so. But Ivar did make me feel...something. I couldn't describe it and no one had ever described it in words. There certainly weren't any books in Winchester's library about sex or feelings revolving around it.

There was a roll of thunder overhead and I looked up just as the first few raindrops fell on my face. There was a caw of ravens somewhere nearby and I heard wings flapping over my head as I got shelter in a tent that belonged to Trygve and Berglijot.

The rain came down even faster and harder, but the Vikings still set up camp and campfires. Bjorn and Sigurd still hadn't come back, and Berglijot assured me they were holding the line. She was worried; Trygve was one of those still fighting. Earl Frode and Ove were both there as well. A lot of the Vikings I had come to know were still fighting and holding the line alongside Bjorn and Sigurd.

I was surprised to see the amount of campfires still up even through the rain. Then I saw they had tarps slung over them. I spotted Floki and Helga cuddled together, the two of them wrapped in a blanket together. Tanaruz was nowhere in sight and I assumed the girl was somewhere farther in the camp, hiding from the rain, and also Helga probably.

My thoughts were jumbled in my head and I felt an ache start right behind my temple. I had no idea about what my thoughts wanted or what _I_ wanted. But then I realized that there was only one person I wanted to talk to right now.

The rain battered me as I struggled through it. I kept my head down and kept my hood lowered so that my face at least would be hard to recognize. I hurried until I got to the tent I was looking for and entered it.

"Augusta?" Ivar said from a seat. He was at a desk surrounded by maps and written in runes. I lowered my hood off my head and stared at him. Ivar blinked and raised an eyebrow. "I cannot read your mind. What do you want?"

"Answers." I said directly, hoping that I had the courage to continue being as direct.

"Answers to what exactly?" Ivar asked.

"Ivar," I started, now staring at his chin. "I am married. Married to a husband who is decent enough, but still treated me as a child once we were alone. Whenever I had ideas to give for the upcoming Viking invasion, he shut me out and refused to listen." I hesitated. "Whenever it came to having sex, it was dutiful and nothing more. He treated it as a job rather than what...rather than whatever it's supposed to be."

Ivar had tensed when I started talking but now he was bright red and as still as a statue. I shuffled my feet and looked away from his chin and instead to his hairline.

"I know you have some sort of feeling for me, Ivar." I forced myself to say. "I don't know for certain, or how strong those feelings are, but that is what I've seen and heard from your brothers. And I'm letting you know now, that I may have feelings for you too. You listen to what I say and you do not make me feel like I'm an annoying child. When we first met, I thought you were fascinating and now that we've known each other longer, I find myself wanting to stay by your side all the time."

Ivar swallowed, his throat bobbing slightly. "And what exactly were you thinking would happen by telling me this?" His voice sounded nervous.

I shook my head slightly and shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But I do know that you make me feel happy, and that's something not even my husband could do."

Ivar continued staring at me, and for a long moment, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was staring at my face, his eyes flicking around as if he was trying to look at every aspect of it. And then he swallowed again.

"Kiss me." Ivar's voice came out as hushed and hoarse. After a second's pause, he added in a quieter voice. "Please."

I strode to him faster than I thought I would and he was quick to wrap his arms around me the moment our lips touched. One of his hands was immediately on the back of my head, holding me there and simultaneously pulling me closer, not that he needed to. I couldn't help but press myself even closer to him. My hands wrapped around his shoulder and into his loose hair, instinct kicking me into grabbing onto his hair.

But then Ivar opened his mouth and I felt myself melt. His hand on the back of my head pulled me even closer, completely driving my face into his. I felt his tongue brush itself along my teeth and my grip on his hair tightened.

Kissing Kenton had always been brief and dutiful. Kissing Ivar was frantic, with Ivar continuing to keep me close as if he was dying, as if kissing me would save his life.

When we suddenly separated, I didn't move my hands from his hair and his hands didn't move from the back of my head and my lower back. Ivar and I stared hard at each other, both of panting slightly. Ivar's face was red and his loose hair was flyaway from my eager hands. His brow was furrowed and his eyes was scanning my face.

"That was…" I started. Ivar just nodded, his brow still furrowed. I leaned away a little. "What's wrong?"

Ivar shook his head and cleared his throat. "Nothing. I was just thinking-" He cut himself off and licked his lips. "I think Hvitserk said he would be coming by and I believe he saw that."

I turned around to see someone's shadow hovering outside, silhouetted by the fire outside. I turned back to Ivar, a smile finally on his face, a wide smile. A smile crept onto my own face and Ivar pulled me back in, kissing me briefer this time before finally releasing me.

"I'm going to," I started but found myself stumbling over my words. "Going to, uh, go. I will see you, tomorrow, at some point. Goodbye." I hurried out of the tent and into the rain, immediately seeing Hvitserk standing awkwardly a few feet away.

Hvitserk nodded quickly at me. "Augusta. Nice to see you and Ivar are...close now."

My face positively burned but I awkwardly lifted half of my mouth into a small smile before turning on my heel and walking away. I pulled my hood up and over my head to shield myself from the rain and Hvitserk's good natured laugh sounding behind me.


	16. 16: The Pain You Give

Those who had come back last night were pretty much gone again by the time I woke up in the morning. I quickly got dressed, not wanting to disturb Helga or Tanaruz, both of whom were still sleeping. Helga needed all the sleep she could get: I had woken up some time during the night to hear Floki and Helga having sex. It had been hard to fall back asleep after that, but it had been done.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were among those gone. Their injuries from yesterday were not so serious to keep them away from the fight. Ivar's, on the other hand, needed some time to recover.

"I don't need recovery!" Ivar was insisting to the healer when I got close enough to hear. "My brothers need all the help they can get with killing Saxons."

When I saw him that morning, it took all I had to keep my mind from going fuzzy. Ivar confused me, and when we kissed last night, I felt even more confused. Happy, but confused.

Ivar spotted me and he had the decency turn a faint pink. "Augusta. Your brother, Aethelwulf, he will stop at nothing to kill us all, yes?"

I nodded. "Now that he knows I'm here, more so than ever."

"And your husband?"

"Probably more so." I said, kicking the dirt with my toe. Ivar didn't get the angry glint in his eye when he mentioned Kenton, but I didn't miss the smug way he said the word husband. Ivar had something over Kenton now, whether or not Kenton knew it. And that fact, looked good enough for Ivar to make him less angry.

Ivar turned back to the healer. "I will be sure to come back once the fighting is over." Before the healer could say a single word, Ivar was on the ground and dragging himself away fast. I gave the healer an apologetic look before following him.

"Your wound stopped bleeding, right?" I asked as Ivar heaved himself into the chariot.

"Yes." He said simply. "I would not be going into battle if I was still in pain."

"So you're not in pain anymore?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Ivar blinked and shook his head, giving me the idea that he was lying through his teeth.

"I like the concern, Augusta." Ivar said quietly. I took a step forward to hear him better as he leaned over the edge of the ready chariot. "If it makes you feel better, I promise to come back."

I tilted my head at him. "Okay." I sighed with a shrug. Ivar smiled at me, reaching down with a hand and putting it on my cheek. I couldn't help but stiffen at the foreign gesture.

"Do not worry for me, Augusta." Ivar said softly. "This war will soon be over." He leaned down the rest of the way and kissed me. I blinked and wasn't able to kiss him back due to the sheer shock of suddenly being kissed again, this time in public. If Ivar noticed anything off, he didn't point it out. He just smiled again at me and patted my cheek once before flicking the reins of his horse and the chariot lurching away.

I watched him go, not knowing what I was feeling and how to decipher them. It had been common knowledge with the royal family that Judith and Father were lovers, but they had never been so...open about it. Neither had any coupling I had ever seen. Maybe it was just something Vikings did, show affection for their whole world to see.

The battle was farther away this time, so there weren't any sounds of it coming to us. The guards surrounding the camp kept alert. Helga, among some other camp followers, gathered in the center of camp to pray. Some of them holding fat birds in their hands for what I knew was sacrifice. I watched them pray to their gods for a long time, as they sang in high and clear voices up to the sky.

I glanced to the Saxon hostages every now and then. They were glaring hard at the sight of the worship happening before them. One of them women sliced the throat of the bird sitting in her hand a Saxon man vomited a little.

It wasn't that bad, I couldn't help but think to myself. One of the hostages made eye contact with me and curled his lip. I stared back until he dropped his gaze.

It was almost sundown when the battle was apparently done. A runner came pelting into the camp, the horse he rode on looking weary and exhausted. The young man jumped down from the horse, his eyes burning bright.

"We've won!" He screamed to those left waiting. "The sons of Ragnar Lothbrok drove the Saxons south!"

Aethelwulf. Was my brother dead? This runner wouldn't know. I ran past him and to the edge of camp, where the rest of the army would be coming. It took awhile, but when they did, I saw that they had even fewer hostages than the ones they already had.

A hand wove itself into mine and I looked to see Helga standing there, her brown eyes friendly and encouraging. "It is okay, Augusta. No matter what it'll be okay."

I felt unwanted tears spark in my eyes but wiped them away quickly.

Floki found us. Helga dropped her hand to run to him, leaping onto his front and wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Floki kissed his wife deeply, giggling lightly and gazing at her with love when they finally separated.

Ivar's chariot rushed past me without slowing down to see me. Ivar was wearing his mask, so I wasn't able to see his face, but then I heard the sound of something heavy dragging behind it and I almost broke down right there.

Kenton was being dragged by his bound feet, blood streaking down his face. But it was him. It was my husband. My stubborn, reserved husband.

Another hand clapped itself on my shoulder but this time it was Bjorn. His gaze was blank when he looked down at me. "Be glad it was Ubbe who took him down." He said not unkindly. I glanced back to where the chariot had finally stopped and someone was standing Kenton up in front of the other hostages. Bjorn's hand squeezed my shoulder gently.

I looked back up to Bjorn. "What'll happen to him?" I asked. Bjorn hesitated and I raised my eyebrows at him. "Please, Bjorn. He is my husband."

Bjorn sighed heavily and shook his head. "Ivar's been talking about blood eagling him. As of right now, no one has a proper argument against it." Bjorn turned me slightly and put his other hand on my other shoulder, holding me at arm's length and looking me dead in the eye. "Augusta, if you want him to live for whatever reason you have, you need to convince him to surrender. Convince him that it'd be better for him if he just surrendered, withdrew his forces, and went back home."

"And what about me, Bjorn?" I asked quietly. "He is a stubborn man and he won't just leave his wife behind with Vikings."

Bjorn shook his head with a sigh. "I don't know, Augusta. We cannot afford to give up our translator, and I'm pretty sure Ivar wouldn't let you leave that easily. None of my brothers would, for that matter." His hands went from my shoulders to either side of my face and Bjorn pulled my face in so that he could kiss me on top of my head. And then he stayed leaning down to press his forehead to mine. "We should've let you continue to King Aelle's, Augusta."

I was shaking when Bjorn released and strode past me as if he hadn't just shaken me to the core.

Bjorn wasn't the only son of Ragnar who was sympathetic. Ubbe came up to me and squeezed my hand for a moment. Sigurd didn't touch me, but he did give me a lot of looks. Hvitserk seemed to be closer to Ivar's opinion of killing Kenton.

When Kenton dies, there goes the strongest tie to the Saxons I had. According to customs, if Kenton died and I became a widow while childless, I would go back to Father. Since I was still young, Father would have to try and marry me off again. But as of right now, there was no one to take me back to Father.

Ivar sent Kenton to a sort of solitary confinement. A small tent was erected somewhere behind the others and Kenton was tied and bound inside of it. I stayed out of his sight, hiding from him. I didn't want him to see me yet. Even when he did, I had no idea what it'd be like.

"I'm going to tell him to surrender." I announced once I had forced some food down. Bjorn gave me a quick glance but said nothing. Sigurd narrowed his eyes at me and Ubbe nodded once before giving Ivar a pointed look. Hvitserk shrugged and Ivar narrowed his eyes at me.

"Why?" Ivar asked.

I swallowed and straightened. "Because if he surrenders, his forces will have no choice but to follow. Kenton goes home along with his men. It'd lower the Saxon ranks and lower their defenses."

If Bjorn noticed me taking his ideas, he didn't say anything about it. He nodded once in Ivar's direction and took another bite of greasy deer meat.

"Augusta has a point." Bjorn said. To me, he said, "Talk to him when you're done here."

Ivar shot his brother a heated glare. "I want him dead. He is one of the leaders among the Saxons, therefore he deserves to die alongside King Aelle and King Ecbert." He paused for a moment and turned to look at me. "I am sorry, Augusta."

I blinked and shook my head. "Listen, I understand why you want Kenton dead, why you want him dead even more than the other Saxons." I gave Ivar as pointed a look as I could manage. "But let me talk to him, try and convince him to leave here alive."

Ivar said nothing but I saw the sparks of annoyance flicking in his eyes. He wanted Kenton to die horribly for the crime of being my husband, I knew that now. We had kissed, and now he wanted the last thing standing in his way gone. Kenton was that thing.

I held Ivar's gaze as steady as I could. I was distinctly aware of the other brothers watching with interest, but Ivar was the main one who wanted Kenton dead. If Kenton was going to go home, I'd have to convince Ivar.

Finally, Ivar buckled. "Fine. But he will be dead when he doesn't surrender."

"If." I corrected him.

" _When_." Ivar insisted. I shook my head and got up, leaving the campfire as the sound of Hvitserk's snickering sounded almost immediately.

Kenton looked up as I entered and he didn't try to hide the surprise and shame that crossed his face. "Oh, Augusta." He said, his voice low and sad. "You truly did betray me."

I stared at him and took a seat in front of him. Kenton watched my every move and finally sighed. "When I received word that your caravan had been taken, I thought you were dead. But no. My messenger assured me you were alive, and traveling with the Vikings no less. I had told him that what he spoke of were lies, that you would never betray your husband and countrymen. But now, I see that I was wrong."

I remained silent and only looked at his face when he was finished. Kenton was staring back at me. "Well?" He asked. "I deserve an explanation."

Swallowing hard, I found myself speaking in a quiet voice. "Kenton, I need you to listen to me. You need to surrender or they'll-"

"Do what?" Kenton spat, causing me to flinch. "They'll kill me? They'll do that anyway, being the heathens they are! Will they kill you?" He paused dramatically before spitting at my feet. "Good. I say let them kill you. You've clearly been whoring yourself out to them."

"I haven't been-" I started.

"Then why are you still alive? Hm? Why would they find your life, a simple bastard from Wessex, of any importance?"

"I translate for them. That's all I am to them." I said. The lie came easy. "They just want you to surrender and they'll let go back to Bamburgh."

"And what about you?" Kenton asked.

I blinked and shook my head. "I don't know."

"You don't know or you don't wish to tell me?"

"I honestly don't know."

Kenton stared hard at me. "Adelard told me that you were seen with him: the cripple. He told me that he saw you leaving his tent last night."

"What?" My heart dropped to my feet and I couldn't hide the surprise on my face. One of the hostages, maybe? I had no idea. It had to be. This Adelard must've said something as they dragged Kenton in here...?

"Are you fucking that crippled heathen?" Kenton asked through his teeth.

"No!" I exclaimed. But I felt my face heat up and betray me. Kenton's eyes flashed with fury.

"A liar as well as a whore!" Kenton spat at my feet again. "Tell me why you were so quick to betray our marriage, Augusta? I could've made you happy and yet you jumped at the opportunity to run away with the scum."

"You think I wanted this life?" I snapped, finally breaking. Tears rushed to my eyes as I leaned in towards Kenton. "You think I wanted to serve as a translator for men who would kill me the moment I'm no longer of use to them? I have been trying to keep myself alive, and I want you alive, Kenton. You were kind to me and treated me with decency, which was all I really wanted from an arranged marriage. And I did not _fuck_ Ivar!"

Kenton launched himself forward but was yanked to a halt by his chains. I stood up abruptly, nearly tripping over myself as I did. The tent's entrance burst open as Ubbe stalked inside, his hand gripping his sheathed sword. I hadn't known he was outside listening. Kenton was glaring at me with nothing short of disappointment and hatred.

"Surrender, Kenton." I repeated myself. A few tears fell from my eyes as I glared at my husband. "Do it or they will kill you slowly. I've seen it. They'll flay your back open and break your ribs."

Kenton shook his head. "No death would be more painful than the words you just spoke, my dear."


	17. 17: Goodnight, Travel Well

The brothers didn't need a translation to know that Kenton had thrown the proposition of surrender back in my face. Ubbe hadn't been the only one listening outside. When I had walked out of that tent, I found the other four of them standing there. Ivar was being carried on Hvitserk's back. Sigurd was trying not to look interested and failing.

I imagined how they must've heard the conversation. Hearing a foreign language being screamed from beyond the tent's entrance must've been interesting. Either way, I refused to let them see the emotion on my face. With tear filled eyes and a red face, I glared at each one of Ragnar's sons before stalking off to Helga's tent.

Helga wasn't in there when I got back. Tanaruz was in there, and she stood up abruptly when I entered. I waved a hand at her. "Don't worry, Tanaruz. I don't care what you were doing."

The girl hadn't understood what I had said, but she recognized her name. She blinked and said something very quietly to me in the language I didn't understand. I sighed heavily. "I wish I could understand you," I told her. "Maybe you'd have an idea of everything happening out there." I waved a hand towards the outside and felt tears sting at my eyes.

The tears came unbidden and fast. Tanaruz stared at me, looking scared and unsure of what to do. I sat down on the edge of the bed and buried my head in my hands.

More than anything, I wanted my mother here with me.

Constance would've had some sort of advice, I was sure of it. She most likely had never been in this exact position before, but she surely could've told me a bit about what to choose, what to do.

A small hand gently touched my shoulder and I flinched away without thinking. Tanaruz let out a small gasp and a rushed sentence that might've been an apology. I stared at the little girl, who was looking lost again.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, Tanaruz." I said in Latin. She still stared blankly at me. I sighed. "I'm sorry what happened to the both of us." I went back to Viking.

Tanaruz sat down next to me, keeping her distance. She started speaking in her language, and the more I stayed silent the more she spoke. When I realized that she was trying to vent her feelings to me, I smiled softly. She probably just wanted someone to talk to too.

We were both foreigners surrounded by these northerners. The only difference was that I could communicate with them and she couldn't. Tanaruz and I had more in common than I thought.

The entrance to the tent opened and there was Ubbe, looking sympathetic. Tanaruz jumped up and scuttled off and Ubbe ignored her. He walked over and sat down beside me, taking Tanaruz's spot.

"Kenton is going to be blood eagled tomorrow morning." Ubbe said bluntly. "Bjorn's gonna do it, mainly because Ivar physically can't." He gave me a side glance. "Don't tell him I said that."

I shook my head. "I won't." Kenton's death sentence made me feel more numb than sad.

Ubbe and I sat side by side for a long time. "I don't know what to do, Ubbe."

"Let events play out, I suppose." Ubbe replied with a shrug. "It doesn't make a difference to me what you do. But you're my friend, Augusta. I figured you had the right to know."

I shook my head slightly. "I had no idea I'd end up befriending you, and Hvitserk. You both called me your friend."

Ubbe smiled slightly and nudged me with his elbow. "That's what you are to us, I guess." He hesitated before continuing. "Augusta, I love my brother. I am aware of Ivar's faults, believe me we all are, but we still love him. He's family. He used to be so angry, so frustrated at his lot in life. His legs were always something that held him back, and I think he secretly resented us for having something he didn't.

"But then," Ubbe was staring off into the distance, smiling softly. "When he came back, all he could talk about was revenge for Father, and you. Just talking about you sort of, _eased_ something in him, I think. He was angry for our father's sake, but whenever you were in the conversation, he was calm. It's something I never thought I'd see from him, none of us did. When I noticed this, I knew I wanted to meet you, to see the woman who had that sort of effect on Ivar of all people."

Ubbe finally looked back to me and smiled warmly. "I approved of you before we even met, Augusta. And I know that it's not fair of Ivar to put this decision on you, without realizing it of course. It's not fair of him to be this petty. But whatever you choose to do, Augusta, just know that I'm standing behind you. And whatever you do, Ivar won't hate you."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I wondered if this was what having a proper older brother was like. I hugged him back with a small smile and I felt him kiss the top of my head. "What're you suggesting I do?" I asked him quietly.

Ubbe paused for a long time. "I think you know what I'm suggesting, Runa."

I closed my eyes at the sound of my Viking name and hugged Ubbe tighter. If he was suggesting that I actually…

"I don't think I can let Kenton suffer just for being my husband." I said quietly, finally saying it out loud. I pulled away from Ubbe and he was watching me with a blank look on his face. "If I got caught letting me go, I think you'd be wrong about Ivar not hating me."

Ubbe tilted his head and stood up, patting my shoulder as he did do. "I never said anything about letting him go." He left before I could say anything else.

I spent a lot of that night pacing and thinking, thinking and pacing. Tanaruz watched me with her dark eyes as I spoke out loud in Latin, just in case I was overheard by anyone. I weighed options and risk, knowing if I actually did it, something really bad could happen. Something really bad _would_ happen.

There would be no going back if I actually...if I went through with...I choked back a sob and shook my head. Tanaruz remained silent and continued watching me. I put on my cloak and picked up the pillow from my bedding, tucking it beneath my cloak and leaving the tent.

Kenton was still asleep when I crept inside his tent. I barely breathed and walked slowly, to not make a noise. As I removed the pillow from under my cloak, I fought back tears that stung my eyes. Kenton had been kind to me, a good match, all things considering.

Kenton let out a loud snore and I blinked, tears finally falling. I didn't want to see him blood eagled. He'd be tortured and die bloody and broken like King Aelle, left to be hung up from the trees like the king had been. I slowly got to my knees beside his head and pressed the pillow down hard onto my husband's face.

As Kenton's limbs began to jerk, and his muffled screams came at me from behind the pillow, I allowed myself to sob quietly as I put even more weight onto the pillow, fully leaning my upper body onto it.

Unbidden, I remembered every time Kenton and I had had sex. How he did it dutifully, preferring to get it over and done with. We had never shared the same bed except for that first night. I remembered the nights I had lain in bed afterwards, hugging my knees and trying to convince myself that this was okay and normal.

I remembered how we walked on the beach the first time, Kenton feeling like he had to personally introduce me to the ocean. He had laughed a lot that day, and had even taken off his shoes for a moment to walk barefoot in the water.

Kenton's limbs stopped jerking when he stopped screaming into the pillow and he was dead.

I threw the pillow to the side and looked down at my dead husband's face. It was frozen in fear, telling me that right before he died, he was scared. I shut my eyes tight and curled up, hugging my knees and pressing my forehead against them.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered to my knees. I should've apologized before or during, not after when he couldn't hear me. I pressed my forehead so hard into my knees that my head started hurting.

The entrance to the tent opened, the person probably drawn to the sound of me crying. "Fuck." Bjorn's voice said. A pair of strong arms wrapped around me and a hand pressed against the side of my head until I was resting my head on someone's chest.

"You'll be fine, Augusta." Ubbe whispered, and I felt his voice vibrating in his chest. Ubbe pulled me even closer and sat himself so that I was huddled between his legs and against his chest. He kept both arms wrapped around me and was keeping my face hidden from Bjorn and Kenton's body.

I barely heard Bjorn moving around, kneeling over Kenton's dead face and fearful eyes. "Well, she definitely killed him." Bjorn's voice said quietly. I heard his heavy sigh and I squeezed my eyes even tighter.

"Come on, Augusta." Ubbe said softly, starting to stand up and pulling me with him. I kept my eyes closed as I stood until Ubbe's rough hands were on either side of my face. "Open up."

When I did I was met with the mirror image of Ragnar I had come to expect with Ubbe. His blue eyes shined and he locked gazes with me. "You're going to be okay, Augusta." Ubbe said firmly. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"Why'd you do it?" Bjorn asked, just as softly, as he appeared at his younger brother's shoulder.

It took me a minute to catch my breath from the crying. "I...I didn't want...to see him suffer...just for being my husband."

Bjorn and Ubbe gave each other a look and Bjorn sighed heavily. "Get her back to Helga's tent. I'll deal with his body. And Ubbe, don't let her out of your sight." The way he said that was dark, and I felt fear.

I didn't turn around as Ubbe gently pushed me out of the room. Ubbe kept his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me away, and I didn't get to see what happened to Kenton's body. I felt my breath catch in my throat when I realized that I was a widow...a widow…

"Can I sit down?" I asked Ubbe. Before he could answer, I sat down on the grass anyway. I stared at my shoes, the shoes that Helga had helped me find. They were made of leather and gut string; they were Viking shoes. Was I fully Viking?

It was a question I wasn't comfortable with. And a question I didn't really have an answer to.

I heard Ubbe sigh and he plopped down beside me. I finally looked to him. "What happens now?"

Ubbe matched my gaze and he shook his head. "We're going to have to figure that out, Runa."

Runa. My Viking name that Bjorn had dismissively given me. All of the Vikings, except for Ivar and occasionally the other brothers, called me Runa. The question started bouncing in my head again: was I fully Viking?

Ubbe helped me back up to my feet and took me back to Helga's tent, which was deserted now. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and leaned over, holding my head in my hands. Ubbe took his spot beside me and remained silent. We were only alone for a few minutes before someone else came in.

Hvitserk looked at the situation and stared at Ubbe. "She killed him?"

Ubbe nodded silently. I looked up in time to see Hvitserk break into a massive smile, his green eyes flashing. "Ha!" Hvitserk let out a barklike laugh. "Oh, fuck that's amazing."

My eyes started burning violently and I retreated back into my hands with a groan. Ubbe's hand rested on my shoulder and I heard him hiss something at his younger brother.

"Uh, sorry Runa." Hvitserk said gruffly. I closed my eyes tight again, my head hurt too much.

"Where the fuck is the fucking Saxon?"

I heard the sound of Harald screaming his head off somewhere outside the tent. I looked up to see Hvitserk facing the tent's entrance, his good natured demeanor suddenly gone. Ubbe sighed roughly.

"Figures he'd be pissed off." Ubbe grumbled. "Hvitserk, I was told to stay with her. Go find out what's happening out there. Try not to let him know Runa's in here." Hvitserk nodded once and disappeared. When he was gone, Ubbe turned to me. "Do you regret it?"

"It just happened." I said numbly, my voice sounding thick and foreign to my own ears.

"And do you regret doing it?"

I was silent for a long time, listening to the angry voices outside the tent. I mulled it over in my head and finally looked to Ubbe and felt the unshed tears well up in my eyes.

"No." I whispered. "He was going to be tortured. I may not have loved him, and he wasn't the best person to be married to or...but he was kind to me when we first met. I remember being terrified, completely terrified at the idea of being married to him or anyone. But Kenton was sympathetic if anything else."

Ubbe listened in silence and he wrapped an arm around me when I finished. The tears were freely falling now and Ubbe rested his chin on the top of my head. "You're going to be okay, Runa."

Bjorn entered a while after that and his expression was blank. "Both of you, follow me." He left without saying anything else and I exchanged a look with Ubbe. He squeezed my hand briefly before following me out of the tent.


	18. 18: Aftermath

Hvitserk met up with me and Ubbe almost the minute we left the safety of Helga's tent. "Harald saw Bjorn carrying Kenton's body and then he started screaming. They all know."

I stared at him as Ubbe kept pushing me after Bjorn. Hvitserk blinked and followed behind us, a look of mild concern on his face.

The leadership tent was crowded with earls and every important Viking. I froze without thinking until Ubbe gently pushed me to keep following after Bjorn. Eyes narrowed at me or, in the case of some of them, glared at me with fury.

Harald started forward until Bjorn gave him a sharp look. Harald glared hard at him and pointed at me. "The fucking Saxon stabbed us in the back, Ironside. The Saxon she killed was supposed to be important, yes? Blood eagle her in his place!" The fact that there was a hiss of agreement that went through the crowd made me swallow hard.

Bjorn snorted. "Stand back, Finehair."

"I'll stand back when that bitch's guts are hanging out of her." Harald snarled.

"Shut up or I'll cut your tongue out." Ivar's voice cut through the noise and my eyes shot around the tent until I found him, sitting between Floki and Earl Frode, explaining why I hadn't seen him between their hulking figures.

Harald swung around to face Ivar. "Please try, I'm begging you."

"Enough!" Bjorn raised his voice and a short silence fell over the tent. I risked a glance at Ivar, who was still glaring daggers at Harald. I looked out at the rest of the crowd, and found Sigurd and Hvitserk standing together nearby.

Svanhild, the representative sent by Lagertha, stepped forward. "Bjorn, out of the respect I have for your mother and father, please sentence this Saxon to death. She went behind your back, our peoples back, went she killed the Saxon from Bamburgh."

There was a loud snort from the shieldmaiden standing beside Sigurd. I looked to see Ranveig, the darker skinned woman warrior from the campfire that night Earl Frode told me about Freyja. Ranveig glared daggers at Svanhild.

Svanhild's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, Ranveig. Is something amusing?"

Ranveig's eyes flashed with nothing short of hatred. "The fact that you would criticize someone stabbing someone else in the back. I know you haven't forgotten how your queen became queen, have you?"

Svanhild flared. "Lagertha took back-"

"And murdered my queen in cold blood!" Ranveig finished, starting forward but was stopped by Ingimarr, her husband. I looked between the two women and saw the beginnings of tension crackle in the air.

I remembered what Ivar had told me, Queen Aslaug getting shot in the back by Lagertha. Understanding washed over me when I realized that Ranveig must've been one of Aslaug's followers.

"We're not here to argue about the past." Bjorn said, looking between them. "What Lagertha did to Aslaug will be figured out once we have revenge for Ragnar Lothbrok. We are here to decide what is to be done with Ru-Augusta, killing Kenton the Duke of Bamburgh."

"Not to be callous," A Viking I didn't recognize with iron gray hair and beard started. "But we wanted that duke dead? He's dead now, so shouldn't we just move on down to Winchester and finish this? From what I've gathered, we're not that far from the place."

We weren't? Before I could further contemplate this fact, another Viking I didn't know stepped forward. "It doesn't matter the fact that he's dead!" He spat. "He was sentenced to die the same as that fat king. The same as the king down south. She stole that death from us!" A murmur of agreement went through the crowd and I hugged my elbows.

Hvitserk blinked at that and stepped forward, ignoring a hiss from Sigurd. "I agree with Earl Asmund. What difference does it make that Runa killed Kenton? He's dead and that's that."

"Stop calling her that!" Harald snarled. "She doesn't deserve a Viking name no more than she deserves to keep breathing."

"I'm warning you, Finehair." Ivar's low growl sounded again. Why was he being so quiet?

Harald swung to Ivar again. "Stop defending her! What would you mother think of you defending a Saxon, a Christian no less?"

"Leave my mother out of this!" Ivar fired back. Floki planted a hand on Ivar's shoulder, as if to keep him in his seat.

Halfdan inched closer to me, his dark eyes looking hungry. "I say we kill her. But not before torturing her a bit." He inched closer with a glance to Bjorn. "First time I met her, I promised I'd rape her so good she'd name our son after me."

Ubbe's arm was suddenly between me and Halfdan and the older man shoved me out of the way as he rammed himself between us. Ubbe and Halfdan met eye to eye for a long minute before Halfdan backed away towards his brother. I hugged my elbows again, feeling myself start to shake really hard.

Sigurd cleared his throat. "Bjorn, if I can suggest something?"

Bjorn nodded, already looking exasperated. "Go ahead."

Sigurd gave me a look before going back to his older half brother. "We can't kill Augusta off without losing a translator. She's the one who talks to our hostages and has inside knowledge on the Saxon culture and how they work. Without her, we'll be sitting ducks on this island."

"Are you suggesting we let her live then?" Svanhild spat.

Sigurd shrugged. "I'm saying we let her live for now. Augusta is useful to us now, not while she's dead. When the invasion is done and we've had our revenge, kill her then." He ended this with a shrug and I stared at him.

"Can I just point out how ridiculous you all sound?" Ivar suddenly asked. He grabbed Floki's elbow and pulled him back, so that Ivar could see Sigurd and the rest of those in the tent. "Aside from Earl Asmund and Hvitserk, of course. No one wanted that duke dead more than I. Granted, I wanted him to suffer a bit more before dying-"

"A bit more?" Harald interjected.

"Do you think it's painless try breathing and not have air there to breathe?" Ivar snapped. "Your lungs burn and all your last thoughts are about trying to get that breath." He paused and let out a huge breath. I frowned in thought at him; he sounded like he was talking from personal experience. Ivar gave everyone around him another glare. "He didn't die bloody, but he died painfully. That's all I wanted."

Ivar finally looked at me and a corner of his mouth lifted slowly, as if he was trying not to. "I like that she killed him in a rather painful way. I wanted Kenton killed painfully and he was. As far as I'm concerned, Augusta did me a favor by killing her husband herself."

I hadn't thought about how painful it'd be to be smothered. I just hadn't wanted him sliced up and broken by the end of it. A stab of hard guilt pierced my stomach along with the heat of Ivar's eyes bearing into me.

Harald snorted and shook his head. "She may be our translator, but we don't need her once we're done here."

Bjorn turned again to face Harald. "You want her dead when the invasion's over?"

"I want her blood eagled at the end of the invasion." Harald corrected. Ivar opened his mouth to argue but Harald rounded on him. "Don't you dare defend her, Ivar! Not even you can come up with an excuse to keep her alive once we're done here."

There was a pause in which Ivar just stared at him, his blue eyes narrowed. I swallowed when I realized that Harald had a point; once they were off the island and going back home, they didn't need me.

I had figured a long time ago that it was only a matter of time before they all figured out that I was useless once they left. I felt my legs start shaking, and soon I was shaking hard enough for it to be visible to the rest of them.

What would've been left for me when they left? Kenton was dead now, Father was supposed to die after they storm Winchester. I had no idea where Aethelwulf and his family were, but once they were dead, there was literally no family for me to go back to once the Vikings left. I had grown up in a castle, and other than languages, I didn't have a lot of skill for anything else. The smallfolk wouldn't any sort of need for a translator, and no highborn family would take in a bastard to translate books or scrolls when odds are, the entire highborn family already knew how to speak Latin and Frankish.

I lifted my head and exhaled, turning towards Bjorn. "Can I say something?"

There was a hush of surprise and Bjorn blinked at me, looking genuinely put off guard. Ubbe narrowed his eyes at me and Ivar was staring at me with his intense eyes. I locked eyes with Ivar for a moment before looking to Bjorn.

"I'm not sorry that I killed Kenton." I said, my voice slowly sounding louder the more I talked. "I won't lie and say that I regret killing him because I don't. I just didn't want him to suffer. But that being said, I know that I'm useless to you all when it comes time for you to leave. If you all decide to kill me-" My voice shook without me wanting it to and I willed it to stop. "Then at least do it when your war is done and ready to go home."

"You're agreeing with us?" Bjorn said slowly, his blond eyebrows shooting up to where his hairline should be.

"Why would you be willing to give up your life that easy?" Harald asked, taking a step towards me with distrust glowing in his eyes.

I met his gaze as evenly as I could. "My husband is dead because of me. By the time you're done, my entire family will be dead. There will be nothing for me to go back to, no one to go back to. Seems bleak enough, doesn't it."

There was a very long silence that was only broken by slight mutterings going on somewhere behind me. I saw Sigurd and Hvitserk hissing aggressively at each other. Floki was muttering something into Ivar's ear who was looking more and more mad.

Finally, Bjorn just said, "Ubbe, just get her out of here."

Harald stepped forward again. "You dare-?"

"Yes, I dare, Finehair." Bjorn snapped back and Ubbe pushed me away before I could pay attention to the rest of Bjorn's argument.

Ubbe didn't lead me back to Helga's tent. I didn't realize where I was until I was inside. "This is Ivar's tent, Ubbe."

"I know." Ubbe replied. "You two need to talk." Before I could say anything else, Ubbe was gone and I was left waiting.

Ivar showed up within the next five minutes; Ubbe wasn't with him. Ivar laid his eyes on me sitting on the edge of his bed, and he crawled his way to me _fast_. I opened my mouth to say something when he heaved himself onto the bed and used one arm to shove me onto my back.

"Ivar!" I shouted as he pulled himself on top of me, hovering his chest over mine and using his hands to pin mine down, just like the previous time. The only difference was that his bound legs were only half on mine this time.

"What the fuck was that?" He hissed through gritted teeth at me. I opened my mouth to say something again when he kissed me roughly, angrily. He pulled away. "Well? You decide that _now_ was the best time to kill your husband and then offer yourself to death at the end of the war?"

"If you let me-" I started but was cut off when he kissed me roughly again. This time when he pulled away, I pushed my legs up and my knees hit his gut and I was able to shove him up enough to wriggle my way out from under him. I stood up from the bed and we glared at each other for a long moment.

Ivar's ice blue eyes were flashing. "Well? Explain yourself."

I felt my anger and grief and frustration well up inside me and without wanting them to, I felt tears push at the edge of my eyes. "I was right, wasn't I? You Vikings have no need for me once your war is over! Even you can't come up with a way to keep me alive after that. And I _did_ kill Kenton; I killed him because I didn't want to see him bloody and broken-"

My voice broke and the tears fell. Ivar's face softened considerably but I wasn't done yet.

"I have no one left, Ivar!" I kept going. "Even if I did live after this war, no one in their right mind would take me in! I'm the king's bastard who joined the Vikings and helped them to victory! 'She traded Saxon secrets for what's between her legs,' that's what they'll say. That's what they're saying _right now_! When this is all done, Ivar, you all will go home to wives and children and land and I'll be left to a dead family and a country and religion that will crucify me the moment they get the chance!"

My throat felt raw from yelling and I couldn't see anything anymore from the tears blurring my vision. I doubled over and let out a shaking sob, letting all the pain I had been feeling for the last hour-for the last couple of months-out of me.

I felt a gentle hand try and grab mine, but I swatted Ivar away with a sharp slap. "Augusta…" Ivar's voice said softly, quietly. I shook my head and dropped to the ground, sitting down hard and pressing my forehead against my knees. There was a thump and before I knew it, Ivar was sitting right beside me and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I am sorry, Augusta." He muttered into my ear. "I actually am." I didn't say anything and wasn't able to stop crying. When Ivar's arm wrapped around me, I didn't think much before leaning against him and letting him hold me up.


	19. 19: Haunted

Kenton's body was strung up in the lowest tree branches, a bloody stain where his penis would have been. I stared at his body for a long time, feeling numb to the whole ordeal. Hvitserk stood with me and stared as well, seeming more awkward the longer we stayed here.

"What happened to his manhood?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

Hvitserk cleared his throat. "Last I heard, Svanhild and a few of Lagertha's warriors cut it off."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Runa." Hvitserk said, his voice clearly telling me that he did.

"You're an awful liar," I said bluntly, finally looking away from Kenton's swinging body. "You know that right?"

"And you're taking this too well." Hvitserk shot back. "I was expecting more crying and screaming when we passed by him."

I looked back up at Kenton's bloated body, big black flies zooming around him and occasionally landing on whatever piece of flesh they could get at.

"I think I'm out of tears to cry." I said blankly. Hvitserk blinked and shrugged. He grabbed my hand not unkindly and we walked along the edge of the Viking caravan for a while before he dropped my hand and just wrapped an arm with mine, perfectly putting himself between me and the horde of Vikings.

It had been unofficially decided that I wasn't allowed to be alone anymore. This morning I had spent it packing up Helga's tent with her and Floki while Tanaruz watched. Then Hvitserk had come and grabbed me, telling me that he had wanted to learn some Saxon words. Five minutes into our impromptu lesson though, I had figured out that he was just trying to distract me from the heated glares I was getting from some other Vikings.

"They're really angry with me, aren't they?" I stated. Hvitserk nodded. "But why? They wanted Kenton dead and he is now." The more I said it the less guilty I felt. Then I felt guilty for not feeling more guilty.

Hvitserk sighed. "It's more like you disrespected them by killing Kenton in a not-so-Viking-way. Kenton was Ivar's to kill, and you disrespected him and the rest of us by taking that right from him."

"I don't think Ivar's that torn up about it." I said.

"He's really not." Hvitserk said. Then he got a twisted grin on his face and a bright light went off in his eyes. "I think what it really did was just make him want to fuck you more."

"Hvitserk!"

"It's true!" Hvitserk said with a playful laugh and a tight squeeze. "The only other time Ivar wanted to fuck a girl was just to get it over with and be able to say he fucked a girl."

"I'm done listening to you!" I started to hurry away but Hvitserk grabbed my hand again and pulled me back, pinning me against his side.

"But hey, looks like Ivar actually wants to fuck you because he _likes_ you." Hvitserk said right into my ear. "Feel special, Runa!"

"I will feel special if you let me go!"

Hvitserk released me and I almost tumbled to the ground before catching myself. Hvitserk laughed good naturedly at me and despite my burning face and beating heart, I found myself cracking a smile at him. Hvitserk was good like that; he was figuring out how to make me laugh and right now, I felt like all I needed was laughter.

We were indeed close to Winchester. The scenery was getting more and more familiar, and we were coming across more villages full of citizens. I told Bjorn that these villages wouldn't have anyone or anything of importance in them. Bjorn had listened but had said that there was nothing he could do to keep others from doing something.

Turning a blind eye to the carnage that followed in these villages was harder than I had thought.

When the gray mass that was Winchester came into view, Bjorn had me brought to the front of the army. He pointed at the walls, "Where are the guards?"

"I have no idea." I told him. "Usually there are always guards there."

Bjorn led the assault that opened the gates of Winchester and I was left with Helga and Tanaruz as the army stormed the city, but something was off.

"It's quiet." I said simply. Helga nodded, holding both my hand and Tanaruz's. Tanaruz was looking a lot between herself and Helga, looking more nervous than usual. Finally after maybe a half hour of waiting, Helga led the two of us inside the city gates and I felt tears immediately spring to my eyes.

Last time I was here, I leaving to go to Bamburgh with Kenton. Now Kenton was dead, and it looked like Winchester was...deserted. No bodies were on the ground, no blood staining the dirt. Vikings weren't even fighting, more like exploring, ducking into doorways and disappearing down roads. Helga looked to me.

"Was it always like this?" She asked.

I shook my head, blinking until the threat of tears wa gone. "No. This place was full of life last time I was here. I have no idea what's happened."

Helga looked at me with sympathy in her brown eyes and she followed me towards where the castle loomed darkly over the courtyard. Helga still had Tanaruz by the hand and pulled her along with us.

Vikings were running rampant about the castle, tearing down tapestries and smashing windows. I stared at them and the broken glass and fallen tapestries. Some of these things had been here since before I was born. A painting of a great great grandfather was being ripped to shreds, while I stood and remembered Father hanging it on the wall.

"Runa?" Helga said gently, twining her fingers around my elbow. "Show me some of your favorite places here. Before they get ruined."

Without saying anything, I started moving towards where the library was, my feet instinctively carrying me down the familiar path.

No one had found the library yet, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Helga and Tanaruz followed me, staring at the dusty scrolls with wide eyes. I took a scroll on the Viking language down from the shelf and smiled broadly.

"Did you know Athelstan?" I asked.

Helga nodded, her eyes narrowing on the scroll as I unrolled it. I held it out and showed it to her. "This is one of the scrolls he wrote, about your language. This is how I learned to speak Viking!"

She looked at the scroll with new interest. Helga dropped Tanaruz's hand and she approached me, her hands gently touching the brittle parchment, as if she knew how fragile the scroll was.

"Athelstan wrote these?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Not just this one," I said and turned away from her to gesture to the whole shelf that was the Viking language section I had cared for. "All of these. And then I had added these ones, after I talked to Ivar for the first time. I wrote down the words Ivar used and wrote what they meant and how to pronounce everything, the way Athelstan had done it."

I looked back towards Helga and my smile melted from my face. All I saw was the flash of silver and Tanaruz rushing forward with a dagger in her hand.

"Helga!" I shouted, reaching out and grabbing her wrists, yanking her forward the exact same moment Tanaruz sunk the dagger into Helga's back. Helga let out a shriek of pain as Tanaruz took her dagger back, dark red blood only on the first inch of it. Helga tried putting pressure on the wound on her back, but it was out of reach.

Tanaruz stared for a moment, looking scared and lost and furious. Until she turned the blade around and-with a scream from both me and Helga-plunged the dagger into her chest, right up to the hilt.

Helga needs help, a voice in my head hissed at me. I lifted her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her, stopping the flow of blood coming from her back. "C'mon, Helga." I said. "We're going to get you somewhere safe."

Helga wept as I led her back outside to the courtyard and we were almost immediately bowled over by Floki.

"Helga!" Floki shouted, shoving me away roughly so that I fell hard to the ground. Floki swooped Helga up into his arms and started carrying her away. I got up to my feet shakily right as Ivar crawled to me.

"Is she okay?" Ivar asked.

"I think so." I said, dusting myself off. "The wound was not that deep. It was Tanaruz, the girl Helga had adopted. Her body's still in the library. She killed herself."

Ivar nodded once and just stared at me for a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Floki just wanted to get to Helga. I'm fine."

"I mean are you okay with everything else?"

I stared at him for a moment; we hadn't really spoken since that night I had broken down and screamed at him. Maybe he thought space was what I needed. I remembered what Hvitserk had said and I felt my face turn red.

"Show me your home." Ivar suddenly said. "The one you shared with your mother. Before King Ecbert gave you recognition." I couldn't think of any reason not to, so I led the way towards where the servants had lived.

The door creaked loudly when I entered. I stared, mouth slightly open, at the room's decor. Constance and I hadn't lived here for years and years, but it was the same. I moved slowly to the bed and sat down, the thin blankets on top telling me that whoever had lived here were even more poor than Constance and I had been.

"This is where you and your mother lived?" Ivar asked from the doorway. I nodded jerkily; I had forgotten he was following me.

"Some other family moved in after I went to live in the castle." I told Ivar as he crawled farther into the one roomed house. "I never met them officially, but they had two sons." I shook my head. "They must've run off with everyone else."

"How did a family of four fit in here?" Ivar asked, his nose wrinkled as he looked around.

I shrugged. "The same way bigger families lived in houses like this."

Ivar shook his head and dragged himself onto the bed with me, laying back at breathing heavily. I watched him for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. And for the first time, I asked him about his legs.

"Is it hard?" I asked quietly. Ivar glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. "Dragging yourself around like that? I never wanted to ask before but, this is honestly the first time I've noticed you trying to catch your breath."

Ivar let out a small huff of air and a small smile came onto his face. "I am used to it, Augusta. When I was very little, my brothers pulled me in a wagon. But the heavier I got, I had to get used to dragging myself after them. Sometimes they'd forget about me and run off."

I remembered what Ubbe had said, how he thought Ivar resented them for being able to walk. I nodded for Ivar to continue.

"It is not ideal." Ivar said with a shrug and sat up. "Enough talk of my legs. It's a lousy subject. Let's get out of here, this place gives makes me uncomfortable." I nodded in agreement, the emptiness of the house making me feel a new sense of unease. Between this place and Tanaruz's suicide, Winchester was feeling more and more haunted.

I walked slowly this time, so that Ivar dragged himself right beside me. Ivar took the lead and went back inside the castle, seemingly knowing exactly where he was going. I just followed him and looked around more; it was even more ransacked now than it was a couple of hours earlier.

The throne room hadn't been dusted in days, I could tell. Usually dustings happened every single day. Once when I was ten, the servants in charge of the throne room didn't do their job in here (I would later learn that they had been having sex with each other instead and had been flogged for it) and the lack of work really showed.

The candles hadn't been lit in days as well, but the wax streams that hung to the iron holders had gotten longer since the last time I had seen them. I picked the end off of one of the wax streams and smiled as the wax crumbled between my fingers.

Ivar was watching me, a curious expression on his face. I shrugged at him. "I thought I had forgotten the details about this room." I said, sort of quiet. "But it's like I've suddenly remembered every last detail about it."

Ivar smiled softly up at me and said nothing. I smiled back briefly before turning towards the rest of the room. The Vikings hadn't stormed through here yet: the tapestries showing scenes of hunting were still hanging. Those tapestries would be on the ground already if Vikings had come through here.

Father's throne sat high and alone, seeing it like that made it seem foreign to me. I stared at the throne for a long time before Ivar's voice sounded, sounding like he was far away instead of nearby.

"What was that, Ivar?" I asked, not looking away from the throne.

"I asked if you had ever sat on that throne." Ivar said.

I heaved a sigh and nodded. "Only once."

"Tell me about it."

I looked over and he had heaved himself into a chair, watching me with interest. I looked back to the throne with a shake of my head. "Aethelred and Alfred are close in age with me." I started. "One day, when I was about eight, Aethelred, Alfred and I all decided to sit on the throne. Technically, Aethelred was the one out of the three of us who would realistically sit there, but he thought it'd be fun to play pretend that Alfred was king, or that I was queen."

I let out a bitter huff of amusement. "'Bastards don't become queens, Augusta,' he told me, 'But let's make believe.'" Ivar had narrowed his eyes at me. "I sat on the throne for maybe a couple of minutes before Averill-the head steward-came in and screamed at me for even daring to sit there. Something about how it was treason and how it really meant I wished Father dead to take the throne.

"But then Aethelwulf came in," I said with a sad smile. "And Aethelwulf told Averill off for speaking to his sister like that. Aethelwulf was a man grown, and I'm not ashamed to say that he terrified me back then. But there he was, defending me when I had just moved into the castle, and then Aethelwulf sat on the throne with me and Alfred on his lap."

I stared long and hard at the throne before finally saying, "I know you won't believe me, Ivar, but Aethelwulf was a good brother for the most part. He would defend me whenever he felt like he had to."

Before Ivar could say anything, I climbed the steps to the throne and sat down, leaning back and trying to relax the same way Father had. I could picture him so vividly in my mind, I could mimic his sitting almost perfect. I vaguely wished that I favored Father in looks instead of Constance, just to see what it would be like to be the mirror image of King Ecbert sitting in this throne.

Ivar leaned against the arm rest of his chair, his ice blue gaze looking me up and down. "Huh. Would you look at that."

"Look at what?" I asked, my voice echoing clearly across the throne room.

"You sit that throne like a proper queen." Ivar replied, and there was a hungry glint in his eye that made me blush.


	20. 20: King Ecbert

The doors opened with a bang and Trygve was leading a group of people carrying an iron cage. I swallowed when I recognized the cage Ragnar Lothbrok was trapped in. And judging by the look on Ivar's face, he recognized it as well.

Trygve gave me a friendly nod as he and his group started attaching chains to the top of the cage. "What're you doing?" Ivar finally asked.

"Ironside wants to interrogate the Saxon." A Viking I didn't know replied. Ivar's eyes flashed darkly as a wave of fear washed over me. Bjorn wanted to interrogate me? Surely it had to be because the city was empty.

Had Helga died? My blood went cold when I thought about how that looked. Helga dying of her wound and Tanaruz dead with a dagger in her heart. It looked like I had killed the younger girl and tried to kill Helga. Had I been making an escape attempt? I was as good as dead if that's what they thought.

Ivar must've been thinking the same thing as I. "Augusta has been with me majority of the time we've been here."

Trygve blinked. "What? No. The old king Saxon! Bjorn Ironside found him with some Christian priest."

Bjorn did what?

The doors opened again but this time is was Ubbe and Hvitserk. They looked like they were having a good time. Ubbe dismissed Trygve and the others as Hvitserk entered the cage and looked between the bars.

"The old king said this was Father's cage." Hvitserk said. "Back when Father and Ivar were here."

"Hvitserk." I said, my voice sounding strangled. "You keep saying old king."

"King Ecbert, Runa." Ubbe clarified. "Hvitserk, Bjorn, and Floki found your father with a priest. In a room off the-" He cut off and couldn't think of the Viking word for it.

"I think they said lie-berry?" Hvitserk said. "Lie-bray-ree. Something like that."

"Library?" I echoed.

"That's it!"

Father was beside the library while I had been in there. He could've heard me talking to Helga and Tanaruz in Viking. I couldn't think of what he had been thinking during that moment.

"I wish we could hang this from the ceiling." Hvitserk said, finally leaving the cage and coming closer to sit on the steps.

"What the fuck would that do?" Ubbe asked as he sat down beside him. Hvitserk shrugged as Bjorn and Sigurd entered with King Ecbert squashed between them. I sucked in my breath at the sight of my father, his beard had gone long and pale gray, probably from the stress of ruling a war torn kingdom. Bjorn and Sigurd tossed Father into the cage and locked it shut behind him.

Bjorn looked up at me and blinked. "Augusta, we need you as translator. We found your father outside the room with the scrolls."

"It's a library." Ivar told him.

"I heard and see that." I said, pointing to Father. King Ecbert had a physical reaction to hearing my voice. He turned in his cage and faced me sitting on his throne, staring hard at me for a long moment.

Finally he spoke quickly. "Augusta, are you okay? Have they hurt you in any way? How long have you been-"

"Shush!" Bjorn snapped, kicking the bottom of the cage, making it rattle. He looked to me. "Make sure he knows he's not allowed to speak. Not unless we let him."

I gave Bjorn a nod, my throat suddenly feeling very dry. "Father, they want you to keep silent until they figure out what to do with you." I couldn't stop the emotion from entering my voice and it came through as I spoke Saxon.

Ubbe looked up at me from his spot on the stairs and he responded to my mounting distress by standing up and approaching me. "C'mon, Runa." He said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down to where he was sitting with Hvitserk. "Sit here; you're closer here."

I plopped down next to Hvitserk and Ubbe took my other side. Hvitserk gave me a sympathetic look and briefly squeezed the hand closest to him. Underneath the mounting panic for Father I was feeling, I felt immediately grateful for Ubbe and Hvitserk.

Ivar watched the whole exchange with a furrowed brow. I felt a slight stab of guilt but had no idea why. Father nodded at me, watching the whole exchange with concern etched on his weathered face.

Bjorn ignored the whole exchange and stared hard at Father inside the cage. "What to do with King Ecbert?"

"Blood eagle him." Ivar replied immediately. He threw me a look. "I am sorry, Augusta, but King Ecbert is the one who handed our father to King Aelle. It makes too much sense to blood eagle him."

"Wouldn't it also make sense to hold him hostage?" Ubbe started. "He's more important than Runa when it comes to being a hostage. It could stop the Saxons from fighting all together and we could go home."

"You want to go home?" Ivar asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Yes, I want to go home." Ubbe countered, his voice getting firmer. "I have a wife back home, Ivar. I miss our mountains and lakes, not this flat, marshland."

"I thought you wanted to settle here, like Father?" Bjorn inquired.

"I do want some land here settled, for Father's sake." Ubbe said, turning to his older brother. "But I won't be the one living here. I don't like this place and I'm damn sure Margrethe wouldn't agree to come here."

Ivar rolled his eyes to the ceiling and both Sigurd and Hvitserk seemed to shift uncomfortably. I looked between all of them and couldn't help but wonder what the baggage between them was. Then I caught a glance at Father's eyes twinkling brightly from the inside of his cage and I swallowed hard in fear.

Ivar shook his head slightly and glared at Bjorn's back. "I was here and I saw King Ecbert hand Father over to King Aelle-"

"We all understand those feelings, Ivar!" Bjorn snapped and rounded on his brother. "But sometimes, we must consider things beyond our feelings. We must think about what is best for our people-"

"I know what our people want, Bjorn." Ivar snapped back, leaning forward in his chair. "And they want what I want."

"We have to consider our position of strength." Bjorn said through gritted teeth and for a long moment the two of them glared hard at each other. I looked back to my own father, who was watching the exchange with light interest.

"You always have to complicate things, Bjorn." Ivar said. "You think it makes you look clever."

Ubbe heaved a sigh from beside me. "And what if you kill Ecbert? What happens then?"

"Well, then he's dead, Ubbe."

"We are in the middle of an enemy kingdom." Bjorn started, his voice getting louder and sounding more frustrated. "What's stopping them from raising another army and driving us away?"

"Exactly!" Ivar exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "We blood eagle Ecbert and then we move on. We raid this entire land so that they never have the chance to raise another army again. Why would we even want to stay here?"

"Because it's what Father wanted." Ubbe said, sounding more calm than Bjorn. "He wanted land here, young families to grow here. I know the first time he tried it, it didn't work. But with the five of us, it could work." Ubbe paused and narrowed his eyes at Ivar. "And it's funny, you talking about not wanting to stay here while advocating for a longer campaign."

Ivar's eyes flashed with anger as he glared at Ubbe but he didn't respond to him. Instead he turned to silent Sigurd standing in the corner. "What about you, Sigurd? You've been very quiet so far."

Sigurd heaved a sigh. "I agree with Ivar."

"Excuse me?" Ivar asked, clearly not expecting that reaction. Hvitserk huffed in laughter and nudged his elbow into my side and I flinched at the sudden contact.

"We should blood eagle him." Sigurd said slowly, nodding to King Ecbert. Ubbe rolled his eyes. "But I'm not sure what they're saying."

"I'm saying, we should do what our father always wanted." Bjorn said, his voice low again.

"I'd like to speak."

The phrase, spoken in Viking, hadn't come from the brothers or me. I gasped at the sound of King Ecbert speaking patchy Viking and looking at Bjorn directly. Hvitserk and I exchanged a look everyone straightened suddenly, now that we knew he could understand what had been said.

"I understand most of what you say," King Ecbert started, his voice sounding tired. "And thanks to Augusta's scribe work, I speak a little of your language." He dragged himself to the edge of the cage and looked Bjorn in the eye as much as he possibly could. "I loved your father. He was my friend. And I know more than anything he wanted to build a farming community."

"And you killed him." Ivar said, his eyes still cold and unforgiving.

"Yes, I did." Father replied, a flash of what looked like regret crossing his features. "But the tables have turned. We can make a new deal."

"What're you proposing?" Bjorn asked.

"Well, it's as you say, it's only a matter of time before you're driven away from here." Father pointed out. "Without any legal right on these lands, you have no hope of staying. But I am king of kings and I can give you that legal right. I will give you legal claim to the kingdom of East Anglia. It's a large kingdom and because I am king, no one can question that. And it seems that you have enough men to enforce it until it holds."

I stared long and hard at Father, my ears going into a sort of shock and I didn't pay attention to what Ivar said next. Give East Anglia to the Vikings? Even if he did, there was no way the other kingdoms would recognize that claim. There would be more fighting as Aethelwulf (wherever he was) fought to hold onto that land, there were the small lords of East Anglia and then the people of Wessex and Northumbria and Mercia odds are wouldn't be happy with Viking neighbors.

"What do you want in return?" Ubbe asked and I snapped myself back into paying attention.

Father paused before replying, "I'll only tell you that when you've accepted my proposal."

Bjorn and Ubbe looked to each other and they all looked conflicted, as far as I could see. Father smiled up at them and, in the most polite voice he could muster, "I expect you need to discuss this matter further. But may I speak with my daughter alone?"

Ivar opened his mouth but quickly closed it again, his eyes wandering over to me. Ubbe slapped my back as he stood up and started leaving the room. Sigurd muttered something to Ivar before following Ubbe. Hvitserk was the one who heaved Ivar onto his back and left, both of them looking over at me. Finally Bjorn left, throwing another look between me and Father.

When they all left, I left my spot on the stairs and rushed to the cage, falling onto my knees and grabbing onto the bars, trying to hug him through the cage. Father weathered hands reached out for me from his side and his hands grabbed at my shoulders.

"Are you okay, Augusta?" He asked. "What have they done to you?"

The tears started falling freely from my eyes and I nodded. "I'm fine! I'm fine, Father. They haven't done anything. Well...a few of them want me dead…"

"For what?" Father asked, his voice cracking.

I couldn't stop the wave of information that came out of me. "I killed Kenton! They captured him and were going to torture him, so I killed him with a pillow to keep him from suffering. And now there's a lot of them who want me to die and I'm...I'm-"

"Augusta!" Father's hands jerked, shaking me slightly. I looked at his face through my tears, and his face was just etched with pain. "You will not die. Not with the way those men were looking after you. I'm sorry, Augusta."

"I'm tired." I said, not realizing how true it was until I said it. "I'm so tired of having to alone. I can't really talk to them," I waved a hand at the door they left through. "Because they don't fully understand it. I have been alone from the moment they found me and I'm still alone."

"Augusta." Father said, one of his hands resting on the side of my face. "You are going to be just fine. Convince those men to take the deal for East Anglia. Please. You are smart, Augusta, if they take the deal, you'd be able to live. Okay? I cannot stress to you the importance of them taking this deal."

I stared at him and wiped my eyes. "Your terms, I'm in there somewhere, am I?"

"I want two things in return," Father said. "To choose my own death, and for you to walk away alive." There was a thump somewhere right outside the door and Father flinched slightly. He patted my face gently. "Go, Augusta. I'm sure they'll let you know whenever something happens." His voice faltered and he retreated farther into the cage. "Go."

I left then, roughly wiping my face to try and get rid of my tear stained face. Without thinking, I ended up wandering back into my old quarters. The old room hadn't changed at all, surprisingly, and it was a relief to just lie on the bed and I fell asleep fast due to the exhaustion.


	21. 21: Hearts and Minds

By the time I woke up later that same day, the Vikings had already started making camp in the courtyard outside. I left the safety of my room and started for the throne room, maybe Father was still in there. He was. I didn't feel like having another tearful conversation with him, but his life was on a time limit.

"Augusta?" Bjorn's voice sounded from farther down the corridor and I turned to see the older man striding towards me. He stopped short right in front of me and he looked over my head to the entrance of the throne room. "We're taking the deal for East Anglia."

I blinked at him. "You are?"

"Father wanted land here." Bjorn said simply. "We won't get another deal like this if we refused. The others will be figuring out the details; I'm going back to the Mediterranean. What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked. Bjorn walked towards the window and stared out of it. I followed him, sensing that that's what he wanted. Standing beside Bjorn, he dwarfed me. I only went up to his chest, and I had to look straight up in order to look him in the face.

When Bjorn looked down at me, I had to remind myself that I wasn't looking at Ragnar Lothbrok. They looked so similar.

"I'm going to say this once, Augusta." Bjorn said. "Whether you decide to stay with Saxons or continue with Vikings, you must stick to it. You can't live a Viking life among Saxons, just as you can't live a Saxon life among Vikings. If you choose to turn Viking, go home with the Heathen Army, then you must fully commit to living that life. You give up your Saxon customs and follow our laws, even if that means joining raids on your homeland.

"But if you choose to remain a Saxon, then that's what you fucking become." Bjorn continued darkly. "You never speak my language again, you never speak of how you traveled among us. If you become Saxon, you will forget everything you learned from us and go back to whatever life you can and pray to your Christian god that your Saxons will let you live."

I felt the burn of tears in my eyes and I turned away from Bjorn's intense stare to try not to cry. I felt Bjorn's calloused hand gently rest on my shoulder.

"Augusta." He said, his voice a lot gentler than it had been. "This is important. It's impossible to live with a foot in both lives. Athelstan tried. He was brave and noble and true, and Athelstan died because he chose to try and live in both worlds. If you can't decide, then you will die like he did." Bjorn's hand left my shoulder and he got up to leave. "Think of what I said, Augusta."

He patted my back again and started to go back inside the throne room, but he paused right before entering. "Your father gave his terms for East Anglia. He wanted to choose his own death, and for you to live. He made these terms in front of a lot of important people. People like Harald and Svanhild couldn't really refuse when a whole kingdom was on the line." With that said, he was gone.

So I wasn't going to die once Father was dead? I let out a sagging sigh and wanted to sit down or scream or...or…

I wanted to talk to Constance. My mother was such a warm memory in my mind. Judith had that same warmth, but Judith was somewhere far away with Aethelwulf and her sons. I straightened and started for the courtyard, looking around for either the healers' tent or Floki's tent.

Helga was sitting on the edge of her bed in her own tent. She and Floki had set up camp right outside the walls with the rest of the army. Her bushy blond hair was framing her face, barely kept out of the way. She turned when she heard me enter, and I saw that she hadn't lined her eyes with black kohl. Her brown eyes quickly filled with tears at the sight of me and she stood up and started towards me.

For a fleeting moment, I was afraid of Helga hitting me. Did she blame me at all for Tanaruz's betrayal? But Helga's arms quickly enveloped me in a tight hug and I felt tears burn at my eyes as I hugged her back. Helga was crying even harder into my shoulder, and I was vaguely aware of the bandage on her shoulder.

"Helga," I said, breaking fee of her binding embrace. "You're hurt-"

"It would have been worse if you hadn't been there," Helga said, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. "The dagger didn't go in deep; I'll be fine." More tears filled my eyes and Helga started wiping them away, a soft smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry about Tanaruz," I started again.

Helga's expression got very sad and she started crying even more as well. "I realize now that Tanaruz was never happy with me; she never could've been happy. Bringing her home with us was a mistake-" Her voice broke but she straightened herself again and looked me firmly in the eyes. "But I still love her, she gave me someone to take care of. I would have done the same if I had been in her situation."

Helga's warm personality was like walking into the sun after days in shadows. I helped her change the bandages on her shoulder and when that was done, I braided her thick hair out of her face. Now she looked more like herself.

Floki came in sometime after that, a dead deer slung over his shoulder. He stared at me for a moment, sitting with his wife. But then the massive man approached me in four long strides and he lowered himself enough to press his forehead to mine.

"You saved my Helga." He said once he had straightened back up. "From now on, if you ever need a place to stay, our hearth will be open to you, always." Helga nodded in agreement and I accepted the next couple of hugs from Helga before they sent me on my way. As I left, I felt so much lighter and more at ease than I had in awhile.

When I entered the castle again, I spotted Vikings looking more relaxed than I had seen them before. Harald was lounging on the pile of gold and jewels they had taken from the castle. I sped walked past and hoped that Harald hadn't seen me.

Regardless of what Bjorn said, I didn't want to step on Finehair's toes.

Just a few seconds after that, Sigurd found me. "Oh, there you are." He said, veering directions and heading towards me. "We need you in the throne room."

"What for?" I asked, knowing I wasn't really owed an answer.

But Sigurd answered without hesitating. "King Ecbert wanted to give some advice on going forward. He insisted you be a part of it."

I walked with Sigurd to the throne room and saw that Father was out of the cage and instead sitting at a table. Ivar sat across from him. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Bjorn were all standing around and Bjorn said, "Now we may start." when he saw me Sigurd enter.

Father smiled widely at me. "Augusta! Nice of you to join us. I figured another Saxon's opinion would be preferable when it comes to knowledge about how to finish this war nonsense."

"War nonsense?" I echoed. Ubbe snorted loudly and Ivar's eyes had rolled to the ceiling.

"East Anglia will not be handed over with open arms." Father said in a lofty voice. "The new king of Northumbria will want the Vikings gone after what they did to King Aelle. Your own brother will want to keep them out of East Anglia. Queen Kwenthrith is the one to sway." He gave me a meaningful look and I closed the gap between me and the table and took the seat right beside Ivar.

"Queen Kwenthrith." I said, vaguely aware of the fact that I was brushing sides with Ivar, who didn't move away. "Really? Is that the best idea, Father?"

King Ecbert's eyes flashed for a moment, as I was sure he was not used to me talking back in this way. "Why not, Augusta?" Father asked. "Queen Kwenthrith is a powerful woman-"

"Only because you made her one." I cut across him, forgetting my place. I turned to the Vikings behind me. "He is suggesting making a deal with Queen Kwenthrith of Mercia. By all laws, she _is_ the queen of Mercia, but she's been a puppet for a while now."

"How so?" Ubbe asked.

"Queen Kwenthrith lost her throne for a couple of years," King Ecbert explained for me. I felt Ivar stiffen beside me. "She was not able to win it back until I sent my army in with Prince Aethelwulf. She may be queen in titles, but more than half her council are spies and Wessex men. Her council, two of her handmaidens, even her lover, are all people who give me information about her whereabouts and her movements. And I can report to you with utmost certainty, that she has been collecting a bribe for you lot."

"Explain." Bjorn said from somewhere behind me.

"The queen of Mercia started collecting this bribe soon after the murder of King Aelle." Father explained. "It was quite the fright, you see, when reports came south about his body and the position it was in. Already, her majesty had gathered nearly a hundred horses, nearly two hundred pounds in gold and silver, and a chunk of land in the west by the sea. According to her lover, she also plans on marrying all four of her children to Vikings, to seal this arrangement."

"Our people have never done betrothals." Bjorn said and I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Even if we agreed to all of those gifts, the marriage pacts would never hold. And besides, there are no Viking children on this island."

"Her youngest is a girl of three." Father said with a snort of amusement. "I doubt she wants them to be married this instant."

"Even so, it won't work." Bjorn insisted.

Father waved a hand. "Say what you will, but Queen Kwenthrith will likely not give you her offers without marriage tied to it."

I shook my head, knowing there was something missing there. Why would Queen Kwenthrith be so adamant on marrying her children to Vikings? Based on what I knew about Queen Kwenthrith, she had lain with Vikings the first time they came in contact with Mercia. Her oldest, Magnus, was half Viking. She claimed he was a son of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had used to take this fact at face value, but now that I had seen the sons of Ragnar, I figured that Magnus was no more a son of Ragnar than I was.

They were already moving onto the next point of topic. Father asked for a piece of parchment to write the will of East Anglia. As Sigurd left (with another eye roll) and Bjorn and Ubbe both left to gather the Viking leaders and earls, I tried thinking in my mind to remember the lords of East Anglia. Their former king, Aethelweard, had been turned into the Lord of Ipswich when Father had taken over East Anglia. It had been a sort of show of respect when Aethelweard was given the title of a lord, but he could never forgive nor forget the fact that he was no longer king in his own homeland.

Former King Aethelweard had been dead for almost five years now. His son, Edmund of East Anglia, was the Lord of Ipswich now. Despite the fact that Edmund was not king, the people of East Anglia still turned to him and his family rather than anyone from Wessex. East Anglia was technically King Ecbert's to give away to Vikings, but the hearts and minds of East Anglia belonged to Edmund the Lord of Ipswich.

I got up from the chair as more people filled the room and I took a spot near the side, keeping the table in view but still far enough away to see the parchment be given to Father as he started to write. He read out loud as he wrote, and I watched the Vikings' reactions as they listened to East Anglia being handed over to them.

Despite the fact that this paper ended the war for land, this war was far from over. The people of East Anglia wouldn't be in a hurry to accept Vikings as rulers, or as equals. There would be more fighting for the Vikings to take control of their new kingdom, and then I knew for a fact that Aethelwulf would not accept this deal, and the new king of Northumbria would surely want revenge for King Aelle's death.

Father finished the contract with his wax seal and he carefully handed it back to Bjorn. "There it is. The kingdom of East Anglia is legally, yours."

Bjorn stared down at the paper, his face kept blank. But I saw the look of relief on Ubbe's face; Ragnar's dream of owning land on the Saxon island was complete.

"Am I free to make my final journey?" Father asked Bjorn quietly. Bjorn gave my father a long look before nodding solemnly. Father stood up and he asked, "May I say a farewell to my daughter?"

Ivar was the one who answered this time. "Go on, King Ecbert." Right after saying this, Ivar looked to me and nodded.

Father stood up and strode over to me, bringing me into his arms tightly. I embraced him back, knowing that this was the last time I'd ever see him. Father kissed my cheek briefly, keeping his head pressed against the side of mine, his mouth right beside my ear.

"I forgive you, Augusta." Father's voice sounded in my ear, his breath tickling it. I closed my eyes and hugged him tighter for a moment before we let each other go. Father patted the side of my face tenderly before fully letting two Vikings escort him out of the throne room. I watched them go, telling myself that I'd grieve for Father when I was in private.

Vikings started trickling out of the room, slapping each other on the back and looking happy with themselves. Bjorn left with Sigurd at his side, muttering into his younger brother's ear. Ubbe and Hvitserk embraced each other before saying something to Ivar and then leaving with nods to me. Finally, it was just me and Ivar alone.

"Are you okay?" Ivar asked the moment they were gone.

"I'm not sure." I said, honestly. "I love my father, but…" I heaved a sigh and shook my head.

"I understand, Augusta." Ivar said, his voice lowering. "I remember what you said when we first met."

"What did I say?" I asked.

"About how your people treated bastards, how your father treated bastards."

I blinked at Ivar and walked forward until I was able to stand against the table, my eyes still looking back towards the door. "I think I feel numb. I am not relieved, but I am not particularly sad either." I paused. "I wonder how different things would've been, if Constance hadn't died and she had raised me more."

Ivar was looking up at me. "Would you have been brought to the castle?"

"Not as a recognized bastard." I muttered. Ivar's hand was resting on the table, and I looked at it for a moment before reaching out and squeezing his hand. Ivar was tense at first, but then he turned his hand over and squeezed my hand back, his grip so much tighter than mine.

We remained like that for maybe two minutes, in silence and just holding onto each other. When I gently pried my hand away, Ivar met my eyes again. "Will you be okay?" He asked.

I straightened up off the table and met his eyes evenly. "I will have to be, won't I?"

Ivar's mouth twitched upwards and that qualified as a smile. I started to walk away but touched his shoulder as I walked past him in his chair. Ivar's hand brushed against mine when I touched his shoulder.


	22. 22: Ironside Departed

I avoided the feast that the Vikings had in the courtyard that night. I could hear them singing and playing music and making loud speeches at each other. It didn't get quiet as the sun went down, and it continued after it got dark.

Sigurd was the first of his brothers to leave the feast. He was angrily shaking his head and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he entered the throne room to find me sitting on the throne again.

"What're you doing?" He asked scathingly.

"Thinking." I said vaguely.

"About what?" Sigurd got closer, looking more angry than I had seen him before.

"About how you're going to win this war." I said, rubbing my temples. "The people of East Anglia aren't going to welcome Vikings with open arms. And what Father said about Queen Kwenthrith wanting her children married off to Vikings. It doesn't make sense to me."

Sigurd was visibly calming down, his mismatched eyes taking me in. "Do you know how likely it'll be? Us winning East Anglia?"

I shook my head and rubbed my temple harder. "That's a premature celebration out there, Sigurd. Aethelwulf is king now and he is not going to let you all take East Anglia without a fight, neither will the actual people of East Anglia. You all could win the war, but it'll take even more fighting. You just won the first part."

Sigurd exhaled heavily and finished his walk up to the throne. "Move over." He finally said. I blinked but did as he said and Sigurd plopped down into the empty space beside me. He pressed his hand to his face and glanced to me. "Brothers are the worst."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Bjorn announced that he's leaving for the Mediterranean." Sigurd actually answered me. "He's taking Halfdan and a few others with him. They leave tomorrow at some point. And then Ivar wants to continue this war and Ubbe wants to settle East Anglia but doesn't want to stay himself. I left before we could scream at each other and embarrass our father more than we already had."

"You think you've embarrassed him?" I asked, frowning a little.

"The only thing keeping Ragnar's sons together was the death of their father." Sigurd said gravely. With that, he shook his head and got back up. He didn't say anything as he left the throne room and when the door shut I was put back into darkness.

The flames from outside flickered through the windows and cast a moving orange light in the throne room. I sat on that throne so long my rear started to ache. But I couldn't move, Father's words about Queen Kwenthrith and the words of her advisors and lover were bouncing around my head. Images of more war and fighting, more battles against Aethelwulf flashed before my eyes. I thought about how that Lord of Ipswich, Edmund, wouldn't hand his homeland to Vikings without putting up some resistance. This war was so far from being over it wasn't even funny.

Finally, I couldn't take the deafening silence anymore and left the throne room, the corridor lit with more campfires from outside. I strode to my quarters and I got changed into a nightgown and heavy robe, wrapping myself up in the warm material. I looked at my bed for a moment before leaving the room, letting my slippered feet walk without thinking about where I was going.

I ended up in Father's quarters, the king's quarters. These rooms were just over double the size of my room, and just first glance could tell me that this was someone importants room.

The king's bed was double the size of my old one. I crawled inside it and immediately felt four years old again, sharing a bed with Constance. I spent several minutes trying to get comfortable, tossing and turning and burrowing myself under the thick covers. I was vaguely surprised to see that nothing in this room had been ransacked; you would think that the king's living quarters would be ransacked.

After ten minutes of laying still, I got back out of bed and put on the heavy robe before leaving. That bed was too big, too empty. Was that what Father thought after Queen Rowena died? Was that why he started filling his bed with any woman who was willing to share it?

After a bit of walking, I caught a glimpse of Ivar still awake in the sitting room nearby. I had no idea what I was doing or what I even wanted from him. But that part of my mind was silenced when Ivar looked up at me with tired eyes.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked, my voice breaking slightly.

When Ivar saw the size of the bed about five minutes later, his eyes widened slightly. He didn't say anything as I removed the robe and got back into the king's bed, and it wasn't until I had gotten sort of settled that he crawled his way into bed. My eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the lumbering shape of Ivar dragging himself closer. He finally plopped down next to me, letting his arms go out from underneath him.

"I see what you mean about this bed being too empty." Ivar said, his voice sounding lower in the darkness. "I'd need someone else too, if I were in your shoes."

I nodded as I sank further down. "I just wanted someone to fill that space. Everything lately has been," I thought about it for a beat. "Too empty."

There was a long pause as Ivar settled himself by flipping onto his back and tucking an arm under his head. He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."

He continued before I could say anything. "I thought about when I was first here. How everything was unsure and how my father told me nothing until I left to go back home. I traveled with those Saxons, not able to understand them but understanding they hated me for being Viking. In some ways you're better off. You can speak the foreign language and there is a small group who have some affection for you. But a lot of my people still don't like you."

"Ivar, is this supposed to make me feel better?" I asked incredulously.

One of his hands covered my mouth. "Shush." He said, a laugh in his voice. "I'm trying to say that I understand now, Augusta. And that I'm trying to think of something that will help you. I don't want you upset like this anymore. I don't want you feeling empty."

I couldn't think of words to say to that, so I just turned over in bed and kissed him, just because I wanted to. He kissed me back, his free hand slowly moving to the back of my head, giving me enough time to move away if I wanted to.

I didn't though.

Ivar removed the arm tucked behind his head and it wrapped around me, pulling me closer. I made a squeak as he pulled me closer, practically pulling me on top of him. Ivar laughed at me, his laugh sounding airy as if he was light headed. He tried getting me farther on top of him and I responded by straddling him, ending up putting my weight on waist.

"Are you okay?" I asked, breaking the kiss and looking down, to make sure I wasn't putting my weight on his legs.

Ivar's hand went to my face and he tilted my face back so that I was facing him again. "Do not worry about my legs." His hand went from my face to the back of my head and he pushed my head down until we were kissing again.

While I used my hands to keep myself balanced, Ivar's hands explored. His left hand ran through my loose hair and he collected a handful of it near the top of my head before he released and twined my hair through his fingers. His right hand ran down my back until it got to my thigh. I squeaked again and caused Ivar to laugh when he squeezed my rear hard and it frightened me.

"You're okay." He said into my jawline. "You're perfect." He kissed me again, the smile staying there. He kissed me as if it was the last thing he would do. As if kissing me would save him.

After several minutes of kissing each other with Ivar's roaming hands, I was curled beside Ivar, his arm slung around and me and pressing me into his side. The position was foreign to me, but it was comfortable. I could hear Ivar's heartbeat underneath my head, and the sound of it made me smile.

"I never knew it was like this." I said softly. Ivar made a noise from the back of his throat. "I mean, it was never like this before."

Ivar didn't say anything, for which I was grateful. I had no idea what he could even say to that. But he squeezed me tighter and kissed the top of my head, pausing long enough to smell my hair. Without thinking, I took a deep breath and smelled him back. Ivar smelled of sweat and earth and I smiled without thinking.

When I fell asleep curled around Ivar, my dreams landed me in a completely place.

The field I was in was windy and smelled of the marshes. Nothing but sparse grass grew around me. I heard cawing of ravens and turned around to see what looked like a sea of ravens, standing and hopping on the ground, staring at me and cawing their hearts out.

A sudden raven flew out at me and I ducked as it flew overhead. I followed the raven with my eyes and felt even colder when I saw that more ravens had appeared from nowhere.

 _Where did you all come from_ , I thought but didn't say. Some primal instinct told me that even if I had wanted to speak, I wouldn't be able to.

I turned, thinking that maybe I should try and walk through the ravens, only to be met with a silent man less than a foot away from me. I shrieked and flung myself backwards, falling over and landing hard on my back.

The man's iron gray hair blew in some invisible breeze. Tattoos covered half of his face, the half where he was missing an eye. He was staring at me intensely with a single cold gray eye, while his empty socket remained dark, too dark.

The ravens all took of at once and, with the ravens flying in the air, the man was blocked from my sight. I covered my face with my arms as the claws and wings beat against me.

"Get off!" I screamed, suddenly falling. I landed hard on my side and I opened my eyes to see hardwood floors. I sprang to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest. I was back in the king's quarters of the castle, not in a dead field.

"Augusta!" Ivar exclaimed in a sleepy voice. I looked up to see him peeking over the edge of the bed, his loose hair messy from sleep. "Did you have a bad dream?"

I stood up to see sunlight streaming in through the windows. "It's morning."

"That's usually what happens after night." Ivar said dryly. "You're shaking."

"I had a weird dream, that's all." I said, picking up the heavy robe I had left on the floor last night. "Morning came a bit fast, I guess."

Ivar made a noise from the back of his throat. "Bjorn should be leaving soon."

"How is he getting back to the Mediterranean?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting my feet dangle off the side. Ivar moved himself until he was sitting behind me and I felt his chin rest on my shoulder as one of his arms snaked around my middle.

"Our boats travel by rivers." Ivar explained. "A small force has been sailing south behind us, going down rivers and occasionally going back to sea to sail beside the coast. Right now, they should be about thirty or so miles away. Bjorn and his forces will go to the boats and take however many they need." He finished off by kissing my neck, an action that sent shivers down my body.

"Do you know where you'll be marching first?" I asked once I recovered a bit. "East Anglia or Mercia to deal with Queen Kwenthrith?"

Ivar gave off a sound that was somewhere between growling and purring. "That is something only leaders of the Great Army would know. Are you a leader of the Great Army?" He suddenly pulled me back and I yelped as I was suddenly on my back, Ivar practicurly curled around me and his fingertips tracing circles on my belly.

I sat up to lean back on my elbows, knocking his hand off. "Oh, did you just learn the Saxon language? My apologies; you'll want to do your own translating from now on."

Ivar's smile was wide and it was taking over his whole face. His hand struck out as quick as a snake and knocked one of my elbows out from under me, making me fall back again. Ivar quickly rearranged himself so that he was right beside me, a quick turn away from being on top of me if he wanted to be.

"You have a lot of bravery, speaking to me like that." He said, his voice lowering dangerously in a way that was making me smile.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, locking eyes with him and refusing to look away. Ivar didn't break eye contact as he rolled over on top of me, and once again my entire body felt like it was shaking.

He started biting at the soft skin of my neck slightly, only stopping when I squealed a bit too loudly. "You're going to bring the entire army in here, wondering what all that noise is."

I heard footsteps creaking at that moment and started pushing at Ivar's chest to get him off. "May already be too late for that." I hissed. "Someone's coming." Ivar frowned but rolled off me and I launched to my feet and straightened myself just in time for Ubbe to peer into the door as he opened it.

"Bjorn is leaving." Ubbe said bluntly, taking in one look at the state of me and his brother. "Finish whatever you're doing and see him off." With that, Ubbe disappeared and Ivar and I looked at each other.

"I should go find some real clothes." I muttered, feeling suddenly awkward.

Ivar smiled at the way I was suddenly hyper aware of myself and nodded. "I'll meet you down there. But wait-before you go."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me down to kiss me again, and he kissed me gently this time. I kissed him back and was the one who pulled away, Ivar slowly letting my hand go and letting me leave with a red tinge and smile on my face.

I didn't know a lot of the people Bjorn was taking. Halfdan was embracing his brother goodbye a little ways away from me. A few camp followers and shieldmaidens were leaving, and I spotted Svanhild speaking to Bjorn in hushed tones.

Svanhild had come here to avenge Ragnar's death on behalf of Lagertha, I remembered. Would she continue on with Bjorn to see him on his adventures, or was she going to stay here and see that East Anglia was taken? Maybe she was leaving all together to go back home?

When I saw Floki and Helga packing up their things, I turned tail and rushed over to the pair of them. "Are you going with Bjorn?" I asked as soon as I was in earshot.

"No," Floki said. "We are going back home."

"Home?" I echoed.

"Yes, my dear," Helga replied, coming forward and taking my hands. "After what happened with Tanaruz, we think it may be best. If you ever find yourself in the woods outside Kattegat, be sure to stop by. You are always welcome at our hearth."

"I'm going to miss you," I said, not able to think of anything else to say. Helga smiled warmly and she was quick to embrace me. Floki continued packing and glanced over at me from over his shoulder.

"I shall miss you too." Helga said upon letting me go. "But something tells me this won't be the last time we see each other. We will meet again." The older woman grabbed my face between her hands and she kissed my forehead.

When Helga finally released me, Floki took the spot beside her and he looked down at me as if he was still not sure what to make of me. He rested his hand on my shoulder and he patted it, smiling softly before dropping his hand and going back to packing. Helga beamed after her husband, the sadness I had seen yesterday still there, but not as strong.

Helga promised she would say goodbye to me before they left, and I left them to continue their packing. I spotted Svanhild and Bjorn holding their foreheads together, and I figured that that meant she wasn't going with him to the Mediterranean.

It wasn't long before Bjorn found me standing nearby. The larger man approached me and grabbed onto my shoulders, holding me at arms length. "Augusta, remember what I told you?" He asked.

"About not ending up like Athelstan?" I asked.

Bjorn nodded and there was a slight smile on his face from the way I spoke. "Right. We may never see each other again, depending on what you decide to do once the war is completely done. The time for vengeance and hatred is over; it's time to conquer and build lives."

I blinked at his words but I wasn't able to think on it long before Bjorn's hands went from my shoulders to either side of my face and he pulled me closer so that he could kiss the top of my head.

"Take care, Augusta of Wessex." Bjorn said finally. He pressed his forehead against mine, a gesture I was beginning to associate with goodbyes seeing how often it was used at goodbyes.

Bjorn Ironside didn't leave Winchester for another hour, as he said goodbye to each of his four younger brothers. I watched from the side as he said his goodbyes and finally lead the way out of the gates, Halfdan right beside him and their couple of dozen Viking warriors and camp followers. When the gates closed behind him, I felt a hand brush against my elbow.

Ivar was sitting. "Come, we have plans to make. You're the only Saxon around." I snorted at the sound of that and Ivar threw me a look over his shoulder as he turned around and started to crawl back towards the palace.


	23. 23: Brick by Brick

"Augusta." The voice hissed with hot air that hit the back of my neck. I shrieked and spun around, the bloated and flayed body of King Aelle standing there and staring at me with accusing eyes. I leapt backwards and turned away to run away, but Kenton was there with blue skin and a terrified expression on his face. He stared at me with nothing short of hatred.

"Traitor!" Kenton screamed at me. There was a sudden hot spray of blood and I saw King Ecbert with his arms sliced wide open and blood spraying out.

"Whore of Wessex." Father's voice was echoey and sounded far away even though he was right there. I felt hands suddenly on me and I opened my eyes.

"Augusta!" Ivar's voice was scared sounding. "It was a nightmare." I turned and saw him, his ice blue eyes wide and frightful looking. He had his hands on my arms and I realized he was trying to shake me awake.

"I'm, I'm fine," I said, my voice barely audible.

Ivar blinked. "No you are not. What was it about?" He sat up more and leaned his back against the bed's headboard.

I stayed laying down on my side. "I saw them." I said softly. "King Aelle and Father and Kenton. They were sort of half dead and they were screaming."

"Screaming what?"

I shook my head. "They're angry with me, all of them."

"You're not the one who killed them." Ivar pointed out. "We killed King Aelle, King Ecbert killed himself, and yes, you killed Kenton but that was to keep him suffering." I heard the contempt that was in Ivar's voice. He still hated Kenton and I wondered if Ivar would always hate him.

The tent we were in barely kept out the sounds of the camp. I shook myself and got up, hurrying to get dressed. Ivar narrowed his eyes at me before rolling over and sitting up at the edge of the bed. A crude set of braces were leaned against the bed and I watched as he struggled to put them on his legs.

I still hadn't seen his naked legs yet. We had started sharing the same bed since before the army left Winchester, but we hadn't had sex. We had kissed a lot, and Ivar thoroughly enjoyed exploring my body with his hands, but we hadn't crossed that line just yet. I found myself getting frustrated with that fact, but I wasn't particularly sure why.

The crutches Ivar was putting on were made a couple of days before we left Winchester. He had been practicing walking in them in the privacy of this tent, rarely with me in there to witness. Ivar wanted to practice walking to look strong, and that included making sure I wasn't there to watch.

I left after getting dressed and the camp was already bustling and getting ready to continue marching to Mercia. We were almost at the border already, and scouts were saying that it was a straight shot so far. Tamworth, the seat of power in Mercia, was still maybe two weeks away at the rate we were going.

Before the rest of the camp woke up and set out, I went over to Trygve's tent that he shared with Berglijot. The pair were already roasting what looked like squirrels over a fire. Berglijot saw me first and flashed me a smile when she saw me.

"Hallo," Berglijot greeted me, the rest of her sentence getting lost in her accent. I was slowly starting to understand her, but it was a slow road. Trygve, having heard Berglijot, looked up and his small eyes got smaller when he saw me approaching.

"Lovely to see you this morning, Runa." Trygve said, gesturing to a seat by his fire. I took the spot beside Berglijot as she offered me a full wineskin. I drank from it, getting a feeling that they had taken this wine from Winchester when we left it eight days ago.

"Thank you," I replied, passing the wineskin back to Berglijot. "You two have always been kind."

Trygve smiled deeply at that. "You mean us no ill will, Runa. I still think it was the will of the gods for you to find our army when you did."

That sentence made me think. If it was up to gods, then they set me on this path when I went upstairs to Ivar's room with a plate full of food. I glanced between the pair of them. "I actually wanted to ask you about them. I've been having some odd dreams lately."

I launched into an explanation of the dreams of the man missing an eye and the ravens. I knew from basic knowledge of the Viking gods that Odin was the one missing an eye, having plucked it out looking for knowledge. Ravens were supposed to be symbols of Odin.

Trygve was listening with utmost attention. "How often do you see these ravens? How many are there? How often have you seen the man?" Berglijot was listening closely too.

"Almost every night now." I replied. "The first time there were too many to count, but now it's usually just one. I know Odin has got two. And I've only seen the man once, it all started when we got to Winchester."

Trygve and Berglijot looked to each other and Berglijot said something in her thick accent. Trygve made a noise and looked back to me. "I think Odin is trying to tell you something, Runa. I can't begin to say what; it's not my place to interpret the will of the gods."

I couldn't help but feel the familiar stab of impatience when it came to religion. If something was important to know, why not just tell whoever needed to know? The Saxon God did it all the time, and now it seemed that the Viking gods did the exact same thing. I kept my thoughts to myself though; Trygve had proven himself already to be the most religious of the Vikings and I didn't want to offend my friend.

After breakfast with Trygve and Berglijot, I left them to go find the sons of Ragnar. Since Winchester, they stopped treating me like a hostage or even a guest. I now walked among the Vikings, and they ignored me for the most past. Earl Frode gave me a friendly nod and his son, Ove, narrowed his eyes at me as I passed.

Ove had been on Finehair's side of things when it came to dealing with me. I nodded to both men and continued on my way, not able to help but overhear Earl Frode start bothering his son about manners.

I found Sigurd first. He was near the horses and was talking to the master of horses. When Sigurd caught sight of me, he waved me over.

"King Ecbert said that this queen of Mercia was planning on giving us horses, yes?" Sigurd asked. He glanced to the horses we had now. "These ones have been all the way south and now they're going north again; they're getting tired."

"I know what you know, Sigurd." I said. "Father said that that's what the spies said, so hopefully they weren't lying."

"And if they were lying?" Sigurd locked gazes with me and I blinked.

"Then they were lying and we're marching into fresh enemy territory." I said curtly. "The Mericans have stayed out of the war so far. Northumbria and Wessex are both scattered. If Mercia decides it's a smarter idea to fight against us, I honestly don't know how much longer we'll stand."

Sigurd and I glanced out to the army as it started to march. Every man and woman looked tired. Just a couple of days ago, I overheard some Vikings from Denmark complain about how they didn't follow Halfdan and Bjorn to the south. Or even Floki and Helga, who had left two days after Bjorn to go back home.

Floki and Helga had promised they'd try and convince Lagertha to send more people, seeing as she was in charge of Kattegat right now. But then Svanhild and her dozen warriors had left, to go back home to Lagertha. Ivar had been furious that Svanhild and her women had left, knowing there was more fighting to be done.

"The war for them is over, Ivar." Sigurd had snarled at his brother. "Lagertha sent them to avenge Father, and they have. They didn't come here for land."

"Well, neither did I but I'm still here." Finehair had quipped, looking just as irritated as Ivar.

But now Sigurd was looking at me, a flash of worry crossing across his features. "I don't like putting our lives into the hands of Saxons." He said, sort of quietly. Almost as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

I looked at Sigurd and I was struck for a moment how young he was. He was younger than I by a year; barely nineteen if I was going to be twenty this winter.

Sigurd and I moved towards the front of the caravan together, and I did that math in my head. I had been eighteen when I met Ivar, just turned nineteen when I married Kenton, and now it was full spring and I'd be twenty years old in the winter. How long had this war lasted? It had been late winter when the Heathen Army had found me at that inn. Since then, it had been a month to travel south to Winchester and now we were going up towards Mercia. I had been living with the Vikings for over two months and had barely noticed it.

Hvitserk had been dragged awake when Sigurd and I caught up to the front of the army. Ivar was in his chariot, and I saw the braces clinging to his legs. I wondered if they worked and wished that he would at least let me try and help somehow.

The march into Marcia was long and we went through marshes to cross the border. I looked back at the land that I knew was Wessex and swallowed. I couldn't explain it, but something was telling me that I wouldn't step foot in Wessex ever again.

A few hours later, we came across a small village that was completely abandoned. Sigurd ordered a full search of it and he ordered Earl Frode to stay behind with the search party as the rest of the army continued on. I had exchanged a look with Hvitserk as Sigurd gave this command. Ivar just narrowed his eyes at Sigurd and said nothing, instead pushing the horse pulling his chariot onward.

Ubbe told me all about his wife, a small girl named Margrethe. "She is short, about your height, Runa. And hair as pale as moonlight." Ubbe smiled absentmindedly. "Soon as we get back home, I want to put a son in her."

I shook my head. "You were charming up until that last part, Ubbe."

Ubbe barked out a laugh, the same laugh I was realizing was almost genetic among the sons of Ragnar. Ubbe put an arm around me and squeezed, a brotherly gesture. I couldn't help but think of Aethelwulf and how he was king of Wessex now. Where was he now?

The march through southern Mercia was boring and uneventful for the most part. The Mercian didn't come to meet us, and any small villages we came across were still, showing signs of the occupants leaving recently. The only locals we came across were from larger towns that barricaded themselves behind their walls and had archers on their walls.

"Why aren't we attacking them?" Finehair spat out as Ubbe gave the order to continue past them.

"Because we want peace with this queen of Mercia." Ubbe explained. "I doubt we'll get that if we butcher her people."

That night in our tent, Ivar had expressed the same frustration by pinning me down and hissing the questions into my face. I just tilted my head at him. "Do you seriously want to talk politics in this position?"

"It would make politics more interesting." Ivar admitted before rolling off me.

"Queen Kwenthrith is cunning." I said once Ivar was off me. "The moment you show you're not her ally, she'll have no choice but to turn on you and take back whatever she was going to give. If the spies from my father are to be trusted, Kwenthrith is ready to forge a peace with you to spare her people."

"I don't want peace." Ivar said bluntly. "Peace is for old men and widows." I stared at him for a long moment before turning my back on him and laying facing away. Ivar groaned as he realized what he had said. "Augusta, turn back around. Please? I don't want to fight."

"This isn't fighting." I said over my shoulder. "This is denying you alliance when you need it most."

Ivar's hands were on me in a flash and he turned me over onto my back and curled up closer to me, pressing himself into my side and not letting me turn back around. "Let's agree to keep politics out of bed from now on, yes?"

A week out from Tamworth, we came across the first large group of people since leaving Winchester. I rode out with Ubbe and Sigurd to the three men standing in front of the Mercian army, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was going to lead to a fight.

"Welcome to Mercia," The man in charge said as we pulled our horses to a halt in front of him. He nodded to me. "I am Lord Almund of Droitwich, you passed my city just a week ago, I believe."

I quickly explained who he was to Ubbe and Sigurd and Lord Almund smiled at the sound of me translating. "You must be Augusta of Wessex. We received word of you aiding the Vikings; Her Majesty believed you half mad, or very clever to choose the winning side."

I made a humming noise from my throat and Sigurd looked to me. "Ask them why we're meeting an army."

In Saxon, "As charmed I am to meet you, Lord of Droitwich, I must ask why we're meeting the army of Mercia, instead of going straight to Queen Kwenthrith to negotiate?"

"Her Majesty wanted to show your Vikings the strength of Mercia." Lord Almund replied. "She doesn't want you to think you can walk all over her and her deal."

I saw the obvious threat and nodded. The soldiers behind Lord Almund and his companions were fresh and ready to fight, probably haven't been marching for very long. The Vikings behind me were tired, and travel worn. The Vikings would happily get involved for a battle, but it would be a very hard battle.

"Understood." I replied. Turning to Ubbe and Sigurd I said, "The queen wanted to show off her army. If this meeting ended with a fight, there are probably several scouts hidden in there. And they'd ride for Tamworth to warn her of what happened."

Ubbe nodded approvingly. "We don't want a fight. Let us treat with this queen and be on our way to claim East Anglia."

I repeated Ubbe's request to the lords and they looked at each other, surprise on their faces. They hadn't expected peace here, I realized. One of the older men looked to me.

"I am Winchell of Tamworth," He said and I recognized the name with a flash. He was one of Father's spies. "And if I could be so forward, but Tamworth is not a far ride from here. If your Vikings wish to treat so badly, why send a party from here to the capital. The armies may watch each other while the treaties are finalized."

Tamworth was still a week away, I knew for a fact. When I pointed this out, the spy smiled. "If it sets your mind more at ease, my lady, we could exchange hostages. Their safety would be top priority, and no need for fighting unless these hostages were harmed."

I turned to Ubbe and Sigurd. "They want to exchange hostages and have a party be sent to Tamworth to negotiate."

"What?" Ubbe asked. "And let them kill some of our own? No."

"It wouldn't be like that." I explained. "We exchange highborn or important people for hostages for the others army to guard. If someone starts fighting, the other side will kill the hostage."

"But Runa," Sigurd said. "Whoever goes to negotiate will be that hostage."

"I know that." I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. I turned back to the Saxon lords. "The Viking hostages would be whoever goes to negotiate, yes?" They nodded and I continued. "Why not let us continue the rest of the way? Why not let us march all the way to Tamworth?"

"I love my city, Augusta of Wessex." Winchell the spy said. "But I know that a siege by Vikings is the last thing my home needs right now. Her Majesty, and the people of Tamworth, would feel more comfortable if your Vikings stayed far away but a treaty was still made."

I relayed the information back to Ubbe and Sigurd and the two brothers looked at each other. "You realize you'd have to be one of these hostages, right?" Sigurd asked. "You're the only one who can speak for both armies."

I swallowed and nodded. Ubbe heaved a sigh. "I'll go with her." Ubbe said. "I don't trust these Saxons or their queen. And you can't go alone, Runa." He looked over his shoulder to the Viking army. "I think the warriors Ingimarr and Ranveig, and an earl...Earl Frode."

"So we're actually doing this?" Sigurd hissed, sounding nervous and frustrated.

"What choice do we have, brother?" Ubbe responded. Looking to me he added, "Tell them to pick their hostages. We exchange now." With that he wheeled his horse around and rode back to the army to go find the three he had named.

I turned back to the Saxons with nerves fluttering in my belly. I quickly relayed everything that happened and the Saxons huddled together to figure out their hostages. Thunder sounded lazily from the north.

The sound of the chariot rushing forward and coming to a halt sounded behind me and Sigurd and we both turned to see Ivar and Hvitserk there, both of them looking concerned and confused.

"You're making yourself a hostage?" Ivar hissed, his eyes flashing.

"Yes, I am." I said bluntly. "Look, if we don't do this now, Queen Kwenthrith won't treat with-"

"I don't care about this fucking queen, I care about you being safe!" Ivar snapped, cutting across me. I blinked as Sigurd and Hvitserk looked awkward.

"Nothing bad will happen, Ivar." I said.

"How do you know that?" Ivar asked, his voice sounding more frustrated and worried than I had ever heard it.

The three Saxon men cleared their throats and I looked to see Lord Almund himself offering himself and four others, looking ready to be exchanged. I turned back to Ivar. "I like this as much as you do. But this is me trying to help out the army, all right? As long as the Saxons in the exchange remain unharmed, me and Ubbe and the others will remain unharmed. You want me safe? Make sure nothing happens to those men." I pointed to the Saxon hostages and Ivar followed, still looking worried.

Ubbe returned with Ingimarr, Ranveig, and Earl Frode and they were all on horseback. I quickly translated the exchange for the Saxons and I rode my horse behind the Saxon men as they rode their horses to stand behind Sigurd, Ivar, and Hvitserk. Ivar was glaring after me as I left, his face a mask of worry and something else.

Winchell of Tamworth looked to me and gestured towards the Saxon army. "There are a few wagons behind the lines. If you would guide your Viking friends towards them-"

I cursed myself. Of course they had come here with the intention of getting Viking hostages. Queen Kwenthrith had probably known that I'd be with the Vikings, and that I'd need to come in order to translate. I glanced to Ubbe and wondered if she knew a son of Ragnar would be coming with me.

As we started towards the Saxon army, I looked over my shoulder to Ivar. He locked eyes with me and nodded, and I knew that if anything bad happened to me or is brother, Ivar was going to tear Tamworth apart brick by brick.


	24. 24: Queen Kwenthrith

In my dreams, the raven's caws were deafening. I had woken up in the morning, sweating as Ranveig stared. "You were whimpering a lot," She said. "What were you dreaming about?"

I shook my head and pressed hard against my temples. "Nothing important, I don't think."

The wagon we were in was swaying slightly as it moved down the road. Ranveig laid back down and settled against Ingimarr, her husband she had married right before setting sail for the vengeance for Ragnar. I had learned that she had been sworn to Aslaug for her entire life, and now she was sworn to Ubbe and the rest of Aslaug's children.

Earl Frode was still sleeping, the massive man taking up most of the room in the covered wagon. Ingimarr and Ranveig were laid out near the edge of the wagon, while Ubbe and I took the middle. Ubbe was still sleeping too, his mouth hanging open as he snored.

We were supposed to arrive in Tamworth today, as it had been a week since we had left the Viking army. I missed Ivar, and Hvitserk and Sigurd. Ingimarr and Ranveig were usually too busy talking to each other to bother with me, and having a conversation with Earl Frode usually turned into very loud conversations where he'd brag about himself. And Ubbe I felt was getting more and more worried about meeting Queen Kwenthrith.

The wagon pulled us into the city of Tamworth around noon that day. By this time, we were all awake and hungry, having not eaten since morning. I scooted around Ranveig and poked my head out of the back, getting to see a real city for the first time in a very long time.

Tamworth sounded and smelled like a real city. Peoples voices mingled until it was a droning noise and it smelled like piss and animal shit. Behind our wagon was a wagon with Winchell of Tamworth in it, and behind that was a parade of guards on horseback. There were small clusters of townsfolk watching us go by and I withdrew back into the wagon and sat beside Ubbe.

"These people never left." Ubbe muttered. "Not like those in Winchester."

I shook my head. "They probably never thought they'd have to." Ubbe's gaze darkened and the Vikings and I waited in tense silence until the wagon halted and Winchell appeared in the wagon's opening.

"Come along now," He said, sounding too cheerful. "Queen Kwenthrith will want to see you right away." Only when we were all standing outside the wagon did he hold up a hand. "Only you will be necessary, Augusta of Wessex."

"Why?" I asked sharply, forgetting my courtesies.

Winchell stared at me. "You are the only one who speaks both languages, correct? Don't worry about your friends; they'll be escorted to a sitting room while you speak to the queen."

I looked to Ubbe and the others. "They want you all to go to a sitting room while I speak to the queen."

Immediately, Ubbe shook his head. "Wherever you go, I go, Runa." He crossed his arms in defiance.

There was a bit of haggling until Winchell agreed to let Ubbe come along with me. Earl Frode, Ingimarr, and Ranveig were sent to a sitting room with Earl Frode promise of killing all the Saxons if things went bad.

A steward took control as Winchell excused himself. As we followed him deeper into the castle, I found myself keeping close to Ubbe. To his credit, Ubbe sensed my unease and nervousness and he slowed down enough to snake an arm with mine.

Out of all of Ragnar's sons to come with me here, I was glad it was Ubbe who followed me here. Ivar and Hvitserk would have both been too confrontational, Sigurd was still distant with me. Ubbe was the one who had been acting the most brotherly. Right now, I was grateful for an older brother.

Queen Kwenthrith's throne room was so heavy with incense, it made my head feel stuffed and fuzzy. I led the way either way, keeping a polite distance from the steward. I felt the tension and unease radiating off of Ubbe. I glanced over my shoulder at him and gave him what I hoped what a reassuring smile. Ubbe continued to look uneasy.

"Augusta of Wessex!" Queen Kwenthrith's voice pierced the thick air and I turned just in time to see her crash into me, wrapping me into a massive hug and pulling me away from Ubbe. The moment she pulled away, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard.

My hands were raised and my eyes stayed wide open until she let me go, her eyes immediately going to Ubbe, who was looking completely put off guard. "Who is this handsome Viking you've brought to me?" She asked but didn't give me time to answer, as she grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to her throne. She sat down heavily when she let me go and I quickly spotted Magnus standing beside her throne, staring at Ubbe with interest.

"I must give my sympathy for King Ecbert's death, Augusta." Queen Kwenthrith said, holding her hands to her heart. "I assume the throne went to Prince Aethelwulf; do you know what happened to him?"

"No." I said honestly. "He and his family had fled Winchester when the Vikings stormed the city. Almost the entire city was deserted."

"Interesting." Queen Kwenthrith said with a small nod. "I'd be lying if I said I particularly liked your father, but I did love your brother. He was fun. Wherever he is, I hope he is okay."

"You and me both, your Grace." I said with a slight sigh.

"I also give my sympathy for your own husband," Queen Kwenthrith said slowly, her eyes finally narrowed and words calculating. "When I heard word that the Duke of Bamburgh was taken by Vikings, I was worried. But then even more reports came saying that they found his body strung up in the trees with his manhood missing." She cut herself off and gasped softly. "To know your husband suffered so while you were in the same camp...I shudder at the thought."

There was no possible way she could know. Kenton's body was found that way, I was sure, and logic said that his death must've been awful. I swallowed and nodded jerkily. "I...I didn't know it was happening until I saw the body." I lied almost too easily through my teeth. "Even if I had wanted them to stop, they wouldn't have."

Queen Kwenthrith said nothing and instead she turned her attention to Ubbe finally. "Can he understand us?"

I shook my head. "I'm their translator, you see. This is Ubbe Ragnarsson."

Like I expected, Queen Kwenthrith's eyes flashed and she was on her feet again. "One of Ragnar's sons?" She breathed. "I see it now. He looks just like him."

"I've noticed he's the one who favors Ragnar the most."

"Ragnar was a beautiful man, to have made a beautiful son." Queen Kwenthrith said in a low voice, getting closer. Ubbe narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, officially putting me behind him. This made Kwenthrith laugh. "Oh, he's a tough one! Translate, will you, Augusta. I want him to know what I said about him being a beautiful man."

"She thinks you're beautiful and strong." I told him. Ubbe blinked and turned vaguely pink.

"Has she said anything important?" Ubbe asked.

"What a voice!" Kwenthrith said, putting a hand to her heart again. I shook my head at Ubbe to answer his question and went back to speaking Saxon.

"The sons of Ragnar are among their army now." I told her. "My father offered them lands in exchange for peace, more specifically the lands of East Anglia. But the leaders want to treat with you directly."

"For lands this far south?" Kwenthrith asked, raising her thin eyebrows.

"They are the only lands offered." I said. "But then the Northumbrians and other kingdoms are sure to give them grief for trying to settle, and it'll be useful for them to have southern allies to help support those claims."

Kwenthrith nodded, finally looking like she was ready to negotiate and not flirt. "I see. That makes sense. If memory serves me well, I remember how Vikings had lands on this island that got burned to the ground."

"And nothing happened to the guilty party then." I reminded her. "They just want the extra insurance that when they settle and take East Anglia, as Ragnar Lothbrok's dream said, they won't have to worry about ambushes."

Kwenthrith finally left Ubbe alone and brought herself to stand directly in front of me. The taller woman looked down on me and held herself close to me. I forced myself not to take a step back.

"And what would be in it for me?" She asked, her voice lowering. "Usually those kinds of pacts are bound by marriage. I am too old for those kinds of pacts however. My children, however, is not." She turned and motioned for her half Viking son to come forward. Magnus was still staring at Ubbe as Kwenthrith put an arm around him. "I want my Magnus to marry a decent girl, and none of the highborns around here will even think of marrying their daughters to a bastard. You might have an idea of that, Augusta. From what I remember, men weren't breaking your door down for your hand."

I let the insult roll of my back and smiled up at Kwenthrith and Magnus. "It's a part of the hard life bastards must live. I'm afraid I'm not the one to negotiate on behalf of marriage pacts and such."

Kwenthrith tilted her head at me. "But my dear, they trust you enough to come up here and speak on their behalf."

"Well, that's because I'm the only one among them who speaks Saxon and Viking." I pointed out. Even as I said it, I knew my role as translator had grown. I could walk among the Vikings and none of them would question it, and if they did, the sons of Ragnar would defend me. I was sleeping in the same bed as one of them; I was far from being just a translator now.

But Queen Kwenthrith didn't need to know that. None of the Saxons needed to know that. The moment more Saxons knew about my closeness to the sons of Ragnar, the easier it would be to claim that I had willingly betrayed my homeland.

But I had betrayed my homeland technically. Whether it was willing or not I was still confused about.

Queen Kwenthrith smiled shrewdly at me and for a moment I thought that she could read my thoughts. But instead she turned to Magnus with her eyes going from me to Ubbe. "My dear, this is a son of Ragnar Lothbrok." She said. I shifted my feet when she added, "Your half brother."

How could she continue claiming that Magnus was a son of Ragnar when Magnus looked like neither his mother or Ragnar. Magnus had just turned sixteen, and the boy's blond hair was yellow and straw like, while almost all of Ragnar's sons had dark blond hair. Sigurd and Bjorn apparently had hair that better matched their respective mothers.

Magnus was looking at Ubbe as if he had found a long lost brother. Ubbe was starting to look uneasy under the boy's eyes. Queen Kwenthrith then turned her attention back to me. "I would be willing to give peace to the Vikings and their plight, and I promise to support them as they lay their claim to East Anglia."

But?

"But," Kwenthrith continued. "I want to make sure my children are all supported when I am gone. Magnus must marry a Viking girl, to get better connected with his father's people. And when East Anglia is settled and someone is put as a king, my daughter, Coventina, will marry the firstborn son of whoever is put in charge of East Anglia."

I nodded as she went, not recognizing the name of her youngest daughter as Queen Kwenthrith went on. "There is also a plot of Mercian land by the sea that I think Vikings would like. That is theirs, as long as the Mercians already there pay their taxes and fealty to the Mercian throne and the Vikings pay their taxes and fealty to their Viking throne."

"So share the land?" I asked.

"Let me finish." Queen Kwenthrith ignored him. "I am also willing to pay a sum of three hundred pounds of gold and silver for the promise of leaving Mercia alone. I want no raids on our border, you know."

I nodded and scratched my head upon hearing that amount of money. That...was a lot. Queen Kwenthrith smiled at me. "Ah yes, it is a lot." She said, sounding pleased with herself. "Wars cost money, you know. On top of that, I have gathered two hundred fresh horses. My scouts have said that the Heathen Army's horses are starting to look very worn out."

There was a pregnant pause. "Is there more?" I asked.

Queen Kwenthrith giggled slightly. "I am finished. Please tell Ragnar's son my terms."

I turned around and repeated her terms to Ubbe, making sure not to leave out a single detail. Ubbe remained silent until I was finished, and when I was he asked, "What happens if we refuse any of these terms?"

"I imagine everything is off the table then."

Ubbe shook his head and an exasperated smile crossed his face. "Runa, our people do not do marriage pacts. If we did, I wouldn't be married to Margrethe...my brothers and I might not be here, seeing as a marriage pact would be standing between my father and mother. Her desire for marriage pacts is just not logical."

Ubbe wasn't done yet. "And even if we did agree to this, exactly _who_ are we supposed to betroth her children to? Vikings choose their own wives-even if we gave him a name and told him he was betrothed to this girl, she would never accept it or wait for him because Vikings _take_ their fucking wives!"

He was getting angry and I risked a glance at the queen and her son. Magnus was talking quietly to his mother, who wasn't paying us attention anymore.

"I honestly don't know, Ubbe," I said, feeling just as confused and put on the spot. "I understand that Vikings don't do marriage pacts, but if your people are going to settle East Anglia, you're going to have to adopt some Saxon cultures."

Ubbe looked at me like this was the first time this thought came into his head and I bitterly thought that stubbornness I saw in Ivar was inherent in all of Ragnar's children. Ubbe glared at me and I kept his gaze locked.

"I don't like marriage pacts that much either, Ubbe." I said with a slight huff. "But whoever ends up leading this kingdom is going to have to adapt the most to Saxon culture. Their oldest son is already engaged to this woman's youngest daughter. And Magnus is engaged to some young girl who is already in Kattegat."

Ubbe's jaw tightened and he looked to glare at Magnus. "He is not Ragnar's son. I don't care what she says. His father may be Viking but he is no brother of mine."

I stared at him as Ubbe sighed heavily, looking angry the more he thought about this situation. "Bjorn has a daughter."

"What?" I asked.

"Bjorn's daughter with his first wife," Ubbe said, looking more and more disgusted with himself. "Last time I was home, Siggy was still unmarried, she may have gotten married since we left though. Siggy would be considered highborn, I guess, being a granddaughter of Ragnar Lothbrok."

"How old is Siggy?" I asked.

"She was thirteen when we left." Ubbe said. "Bjorn hasn't been much of a father to her, not since Porunn left them. Aslaug tried, but Aslaug put all of her focus on Ivar back then. Lagertha was leading her own city and Torvi and Bjorn weren't married yet. Siggy has been independent for almost all of her life. And she's going to be _furious_ if we sell her to some half Viking Saxon. She and Bjorn will be absolutely furious."

I looked at Magnus and even though Queen Kwenthrith had been selling the fact that he was half Viking, he could've been mistaken for a full Saxon. This Siggy, if she was anything like Bjorn, would not be pleased to be married off to him.

Ubbe groaned loudly, getting the attention of the queen and her son. Quietly, to me, "Would there be a way to back out? Find someone else for this boy? I respect Siggy too much to force her into this."

I turned to Queen Kwenthrith. "We know who to marry Magnus to. And whoever settles and leads East Anglia will marry their oldest son to your daughter, Coventina of Mercia."

The queen smiled widely as Ubbe was giving me wild looks, having not understood what I just said. I grabbed onto Ubbe's elbow and pulled him down a little, to be able to whisper into his ear. "I didn't give her a name. We'll find someone to marry this boy, whether it's Siggy or not." Ubbe looked down at me and he reached over and squeezed the hand I had on his elbow.

Queen Kwenthrith had the contract written out and, after reading it over and then translating everything for Ubbe, Ubbe signed the contract saying that Magnus and Coventina would marry Viking heirs, East Anglia under Viking control would support Mercia and Mercia would support East Anglia under Viking control. The chunk of land Kwenthrith was trying to get rid of was taken of the table, seeing as it was illogical and seemed dangerous to have Viking controlled East Anglia border Mercia, Essex, and Northumbria. The horses and money would be gifted to the Vikings in exchange for no raids on Mercia.

When Ubbe and I reunited with Earl Frode, Ranveig, and Ingimarr, the three of them were pleased to hear that the negotiating was finished and from here we could go back to the rest of the army. The next morning before we left, Queen Kwenthrith hurried up to me with her herd of children behind her.

"Augusta," She said before kissing both my cheeks. "I'd like to thank you so much for your help these last couple of days. I hope all is well. And expect the Mercian army to follow your Vikings to York."

I stared at her. "York?"

Queen Kwenthrith smiled shrewdly, at the fact that she knew something important that I didn't. "Oh, Northumbria is rebuilding their army close to Edinburgh. The newly made King Ecgberht wants revenge for his father's death. According to my sources, King Aethelwulf is marching north to join him. Rumor has it that the two kings are planning on marrying Prince Aethelred to King Ecgberht's younger sister, Princess Blaeja."

That union made complete sense and the fact that I hadn't thought about it at all worried me. Princess Blaeja's marriage promised an alliance with Northumbria. Judith's younger sister was a powerful chess piece, and if Princess Blaeja married her nephew, East Anglia would caught between Wessex and Northumbria, two enemies right away.

Queen Kwenthrith smiled as I caught up with what she was saying. "York is important, my dear Augusta. It lays on a river and is close to the sea, so I'm sure your Vikings would like it. If you don't want our new allies crushed in battle, you might want to turn your attention to York."

I met her eyes. "Are you telling me this to manipulate us into marching north?"

Queen Kwenthrith smiled again and she leaned in so that her mouth was right beside my ear. "You're learning how to play this game fast, my dear. I just hope you're able to learn fast enough to avoid getting killed."

With that she kissed my cheek again and pulled away. "Remember what I said, Augusta of Wessex."

Remember what I said; I was hearing a lot of that sentence lately. Bjorn wanted me to remember what happened to Athelstan and to not play both sides. Kwenthrith wanted me to remember to play this political game fast or else it'd be my head.

Ubbe took a few minutes of convincing about York. Earl Frode, who was in the wagon and had been eavesdropping, boomed, "The battle will ring through the halls of Valhalla!"

Ubbe looked back to me. "This queen is cunning, according to you and your father. Why would she wait for this last minute to tell you about this city? What's in it for her?"

I still didn't have an answer when we arrived back at the Viking army a week later. Ubbe, the others, and I had been gone for two whole weeks, and I hadn't realized I had missed the sights and smells of camp until I got there.

"You're back!" Hvitserk bellowed as he bowled himself into me. Hvitserk kissed my face roughly before shoving me away so that he could loudly greet Ubbe. "Oh things have been boring without you two here. Ivar threw an ax at Sigurd-he missed but-"

"He did what?" I asked, my voice growing sharp.

"They were fighting, Runa." Hvitserk said with a shrug.

Ubbe narrowed his eyes. "About what?"

Hvitserk gave himself away by glancing quickly at me. "Nothing." I glared at Hvitserk for a moment before turning on my heel towards the tent I shared with Ivar. I heard Hvitserk curse somewhere behind me but I ignored him and continued to the tent.

Ivar was standing up on his own when I entered the tent. The braces on his legs looked tight and he was shuffling his feet forward without actually lifting his feet off the ground. Ivar hadn't noticed me yet, and his face was twisted in a grimace as he struggled to walk without support.

He shifted himself around right as we made eye contact. "Augusta!" Ivar exclaimed, his body lurching forward. I yelped and dove forward, catching him before he fell.

"You're okay." I groaned, struggling to stand him back up. "I've got you. Hold on; there you go." I pushed him forward until he was able to stand on his own. Ivar's face had turned red and his jaw was tight. I kept my hands on his sides to keep him standing in case he almost fell over again.

Ivar's hands were holding onto my arms with a death grip. "You came back." He said, his voice sounding tight and quiet.

"Of course I came back." I said. "Why don't you have a crutch? You should have one until you learn to use these things properly."

"I didn't want you to see me like this." Ivar snapped.

"Like what?" I asked. "Like you're trying to get better? Don't worry, Ivar; I don't mind."

"But I mind." He said as I started walking backwards. Following my lead, he started shuffling his feet after me, still not lifting his feet off the ground. "I can't let you see me like this, like a fucking cripple."

"I thought you had accepted that part of yourself." I said with a tight voice as I attempted to shift him around so that he could sit, but Ivar was much too heavy for me to try and move. Even on shaking legs, he was as strong as an ox.

Ivar snorted and started to shuffle himself towards the bed to sit, following my lead. I looked up at him for a moment. "Is that what you and Sigurd were fighting about?"

"Hvitserk told you?"

"He tried not to, to his credit." I replied and Ivar was finally in a spot to lower himself into sitting.

Ivar remained silent for a long while as I let go of him and just stood in front of him. "Sigurd has always believed," Ivar started, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. "That I am less than a man because of my legs. He thinks this is why you and I have not…" He trailed off and looked angry with himself for opening up this much.

I couldn't help but glare at him. "Has Sigurd been in our bed? Having crippled legs does not make you less of a man, Ivar. I do not care about your crippled legs, and I thought you already knew this about me. Ivar, I want to help you with this." I gestured to his legs still bound in the braces. "But I can't if you won't let me. If you need me, I'll be in the war council tent, because there's some strategies that need to be made. You are welcome to join me as long as you don't throw axes at anyone."

Ivar glared after me as I left the tent. I made it a few feet outside of the tent before halting. I was so tired of fighting with him. I turned around and entered the tent just to run into Ivar. I grabbed onto him to keep him standing, and his hands flew to my arms, probably to keep himself steady.

He had gotten up and shuffled his way to the tent entrance to come after me, I realized.

Ivar grabbed onto my face and tilted it up so that we were facing each other, his new height making him tower over me. His eyes were still bright with frustration, but his facial expression was soft and...vulnerable. It was a new look for him.

"I don't like looking weak, Augusta." Ivar said, his voice lowering in volume. "Letting you see me struggling, letting _them_ see me struggling, it's just hard. I know you want to help me, and I'm trying-Odin knows that I am trying to let you in."

I reached up and held his face in my hand. Ivar leaned into the touch, and I smiled. I pulled his face down and kissed his forehead and hairline. "C'mon." I said. "I'm your crutch. You're going to want to hear the news is the war tent."

He let me move to his side and I wrapped my left arm around his waist and Ivar put an arm around my shoulders. Slowly but surely, I helped Ivar take steps outside the tent.


	25. 25: Happier

We reached York a week and a half later. The army stopped ten miles away, hidden behind a set of hills in the forest. The camp fires were kept low and spread out so that no one from the city would be able to see the Viking camp from their walls. The forest outside of York was thick with foliage and the leaf canopy was so thick that the sunlight came through in thin beams of light.

Ivar had acquired a crutch, made somewhere along the way from Mercia to outside of York. The sons of Ragnar were all in an attack on York, and they all left the morning camp got settled to go scout themselves.

When they returned, all four of them surrounded me immediately. "When is the next Christian saint day?" Sigurd asked.

"Father once told me that the best time to attack a Saxon city, is on a day where they celebrate a Christian saint day." Ubbe explained when I stared blankly at them. "We plan to invade York on the next Christian saint day when they are all in church or drunk. You are our only Saxon around; so we knew you would know."

"I could tell you if I knew what the date was." I told them. "I know the days that occur in springtime, but I can't tell you which one is happening next or when."

They looked at each other for a moment before looking back to me. "Is there a way you could find out?" Sigurd asked.

"Not without going to the city and asking around." I said, only half joking. Hvitserk suddenly got a glint in his eyes. I caught onto his expression before anyone else saw it and I raised a finger at him. "That's insane. No, Hvitserk."

But the more they thought about it, the more the brothers wanted me to go directly into York to find out what saints day was coming up. Ivar was the only one who didn't want me to go.

"It is the only way we can find out, Ivar." Ubbe said exasperatedly after almost two hours of arguing about it.

"There could be other ways." Ivar insisted.

After this long of arguing, I was willing to just do whatever I could to make it stop. And me going into York was the best idea that had been made. I looked to Ivar and waved a hand towards Ubbe. "It is the easiest way to find out. Granted it is risky-"

"Exactly!" Ivar said, snapping his fingers.

"Let me finish." I cut him off as well. "It's risky only because of how odd it'd be that a stranger who speaks and sounds Saxon would be asking these questions. If I was a proper Christian, I'd already know and have plans for it."

"Then you go to the cathedral and ask one of the priests." Ubbe finished. He turned to his younger brother. "I understand why you are worried, Ivar, but I think we have all known Runa long enough to know that she will not abandon us."

Ivar jaw tightened but he made no further comment. With the matter seemingly settled, Hvitserk looked at me. "You cannot wear that though. You look too Viking."

He had a point. These clothes had been Helga's, and they still fit loosely. I'd stand out wearing Viking clothes. Hvitserk made me promise to wait for him and then he ran off. Ubbe shook his head. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't get himself killed." Sigurd didn't need a lot of prompting to leave after them.

I immediately looked to Ivar. "Why shouldn't I go? I'm still going, mind you, but I want to know why."

"It is like, releasing a house pet into the wild." Ivar said quickly, doing right on his promise to try and open up more. "The pet would not survive long because of the protection they had been getting from the house."

"You think I'd die in that city?" I asked. "I have lived in a city before, Ivar."

"It's not just that." Ivar continued, shaking his head slightly. "Growing up, my mother had a house cat, a gift from Father before he disappeared. This cat loved being my mother's pet; it purred when she pet it and it slept in her bed a lot. But then one day, I went into the woods with my brothers and, for a reason I could not begin to tell you, we brought mother's pet cat with us. When the cat got its paws on the ground, it ran off. Ubbe and Hvitserk had chased after it, but it was gone. We never saw it again and mother was upset that we lost it."

I stayed silent after the story, finally getting what Ivar was trying to say. Quietly I said, "You're afraid that if I go back to the Saxons, I'll run off and never come back. That it why you seemed surprised when I came back from meeting with Queen Kwenthrith."

"Floki was a true friend," Ivar said, no longer looking at me. "When he left, I knew that all I had left was you. Sigurd has never loved me, and Ubbe and Hvitserk have no excess of love for me. You're my last true ally in this camp, and if you leave I don't know what will be left of me."

"Ivar, if I was going to leave you, I could have done it already." I said. "My place is beside you and your brothers so long as this war goes on."

"And what about after that?" Ivar asked, finally turning and locking his gaze with me. "Are you going to leave your homeland for me? Are you going to stay and do who knows what? You said it yourself when you thought you would die, that there was nothing left on this island for you."

I shook my head at him. "You can't put that pressure on me, Ivar. It's not fair."

Ivar let out a bitter sounding laugh and threw a hand towards me. "None of this has been fair."

I flinched at what he was suggesting and left the tent, not feeling bad this time about leaving.

I walked around camp for a long while before I realized who I was looking for. Hvitserk was talking to a cluster of shieldmaidens, all of them looking fairly annoyed. Hvitserk caught my eye and quickly left the group of women for me.

"What was that?" I asked, my voice sounding thick.

"I was asking where I could find a Saxon dress." He replied. "You need a disguise. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" I snapped, and immediately tears started to leak. I wiped them roughly away as Hvitserk sighed heavily.

"My brother is a piece of shit, isn't he?" Hvitserk asked, putting his hands on his hips. I opened my mouth to respond but all that came out was a hiccup. Hvitserk snorted at me and grabbed my hand. "C'mon; let's go find you a disguise. That group of ladies were apart of a hunting party and they told me about a little farm that may have what we need."

I let Hvitserk take me through the camp and into the empty forest. When he was convinced that I would follow him, he dropped my hand and we walked in silence for a very long time.

"Here." Hvitserk said, his voice a quiet hiss. He got to the edge of the tree line and squatted, grabbing a fistful of my sleeve and yanking me down with him. I gave him a glare which he ignored and instead he pointed through the bushes to a small farm. Though the word farm was generous; the sole building doubled as home and barn, with a pig sty connected. There was a small field behind it where a man who looked to be close to the age of forty was working.

I scanned the area and two young boys were leaving their home to go into the woods. A woman who had to be their mother watched them leave before walking around the house to go to her husband in the field.

"She looks to be around your size." Hvitserk said. I glanced at him and Hvitserk's eyes were running down the length of my body. He nodded once. "Yeah, she's around your size, alright."

"Hvitserk!" I hissed at him, feeling my face heat up.

Hvitserk ignored me again. "Look, Runa, I'm going to run inside and grab some clothes for you-"

"That sounds stupid-"

"-and you're going to keep lookout-"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"-start howling like a wolf if either of them start coming into the house-"

"How about we come up with literally anything else?"

"-and I'll run back out-"

"Hvitserk-"

"Be right back!"

Hvitserk ran started running like mad before he could finish his sentence. I bit back the scream of surprise and terror that went through me as Hvitserk darted into open land as quick as a flash, not even looking at the couple in the field.

My heart was hammering in my chest as Hvitserk disappeared inside and my eyes darted between the field and the woods where the sons disappeared. What if the sons came back? Hvitserk would be in full view of them and then they could easily go to York and alert the guards that Vikings were close.

The husband and wife were speaking to each other, pausing in work to talk. I looked back to the woods; what were those sons going to go do? I looked back to the house. How long did it take to grab clothes?

A sudden scream from inside the house made my heart drop.

When the husband and wife turned in alarm to the house I did what Hvitserk had said and cupped my hands around my mouth and howled like a wounded animal. The husband looked in my direction while the wife started to run towards the house. I howled harder as Hvitserk suddenly burst from the house, a tight bundle under his arm. He entered the forest at where the sons entered it. The wife ran inside as the screaming continued. The husband gave the forest one last look before running after his wife.

I left the tree line and hurried away from the scene. How was I going to find Hvitserk again? How was I going to find my way back to the camp?

Hvitserk suddenly crashed through the underbrush and he threw the tight bundle of tawny and red clothing at me. "Got you a new wardrobe, Runa." He said breathlessly, a panting smile on his face. "I think you'll look good in red."

"You-" I couldn't even finish my sentence. I closed the gap between us and started wacking Hvitserk with my hands, slapping his shoulders and trying to slap his face. Hvitserk started laughing breathlessly even more as he ducked away from my blows.

"That was a stupid thing to do, Hvitserk!" I said, emphasizing each word with another hit.

"I got the clothes, didn't I?" Hvitserk asked, finally ending my attack by grabbing onto my wrists and holding me still. "You are welcome, by the way."

He held onto my wrists for a beat too long before letting me go. "Come on. Let's get back to camp. You may get to go to York later today."

I walked behind him for a while before he stopped and wrapped an arm around me and walked with me at his side. "I'm still cross with you." I snapped.

"I know." Hvitserk replied, sounding not bothered at all. He looked up at the sky when we were able to get into small clearing. "It's not even noon yet. Would you be willing to go to York today?"

I didn't think it over very long before agreeing. When we got back to camp, Hvitserk brought me back to his tent. "I'll get the others in the war council tent. Meet us when you're ready." He left and I hurried to get changed.

The dress Hvitserk found was a tawny and red-brown and it fit loosely around my shoulders and waist. It was a little too big, but it would do. I quickly pulled the loose material back onto my shoulders as it drooped off and bound the tawny head wrap around my head as I pulled my hair back and tied the wrap around my hair in a way that kept it out of my face and gathered behind my head. I looked like a common woman who could just be coming in from the fields.

When I entered the council tent, the sons were waiting for me. "Your hair is gone." Hvitserk pointed out, a smile on his face.

I lifted the corner of the tawny wrap to reveal my dark hair. "Still there." I replied. "It's also still back here." I reached back to where my hair was gathered and held it up an inch. "My mother used to tie hers back like this whenever she worked. It'll be easier to go by unnoticed if I look like I actually do something."

"You do do something." Ivar said.

"Her job is talking." Sigurd pointed out.

"Hurtful, Sigurd." I said, pulling the material back onto my shoulders. Ivar's eyes were tracking the movement and he shifted in his seat. "But, if you want the information about York, I should probably get going. I will be back sometime before sundown. If I'm not, please don't do march the army in there right now."

Ubbe smiled at that and he and Hvitserk and Sigurd wished me luck as I started to walk away. Ivar didn't say anything, and I didn't wait long enough for him to. Before leaving camp, I convinced a shieldmaiden to lend me a basket and spare cloth and I collected a random assortment of mushroom and berries as I entered the woods.

The walk through the forest was lonely this time around, but once I got onto an actual road, I found myself waiting for any sign of civilization. I followed the dirt road as the trees got sparser and I saw the hint of gray walls.

York was a massive city. The gates were closed when I approached and for a moment, I forgot how I would go about getting inside. A guard looked down at me from high above. "State your business!" He called down.

I held up my basket. "Looking for the market!" I called up in Saxon, doing my best attempt at the Northumbrian accent. It worked, as the gates opened wide for me and I strolled inside.

It was like stepping back in time to when I lived in the busiest part of Winchester with Constance. Like Winchester and Tamworth and even Bamburgh, it smelled of piss and shit. Townspeople called out to each other, the market seemingly right on the other side of the gates. I looked around, seeing the side door that would lead the where the archers were. Somewhere in there is where the mechanics to open the gates would be.

York was a nice city; I found myself liking it a lot more than other cities I had been in. I kept walking to the cathedral, knowing with every step that these people would be attacked in a few days, depending.

Inside the cathedral, I got my answer to what day was coming up soon. I recognized the decorations for Ascension Day. The priest was speaking in Latin, sounding like he was practicing for tomorrow. He was young looking; how long had he been a priest? Behind him was a large cross with a statue of Jesus Christ nailed to it. I swallowed hard at the sight of Jesus Christ; did he know what I was doing? Did he care?

A trio of nuns walked past me, the older one giving me a polite nod while one with very dark eyes blinked at me for a moment. Her eyes were a very similar shade of brown to mine, so dark they looked sort of black.

If I went back to Aethelwulf even still, he could put me back up for marriage. Pitching me differently to suitors, though I couldn't imagine what kind of man would want a wife who had traveled with Vikings and "was probably savaged by them". The realistic option, the one I could see Aethelwulf being completely fine with, was sending me to a convent. It was a thing that happened to some highborn widows and third or fourth daughters of lords.

I tried to imagine myself as nun, being sent to the convent. I couldn't exactly vow to remain a virgin, seeing as that had been thrown out of the window. But I could make a vow to remain chaste for the rest of my days. Seeing as I was technically highborn, daughter and sister of kings, I'd be given light work, writing religious manuscripts or weaving or embroidery. My hair would be sheared, as most nuns kept their hair. This was the life Aethelwulf would send me to, if I went back to him.

I followed the three nuns and gently tapped one on the shoulder. The girl with eyes like mine turned and looked at me and I nodded politely to all the nuns as they looked to me. "Excuse me," I started. "But I've been away from the city for a long while, and I've lost track of the days, silly me. When exactly is Ascension Day being celebrated?"

The head nun smiled kindly at me. "In three days, my dear. Where have you been all this time, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I have been helping my older brother with his land." I lied so easily. "They live far beyond the hills. You tend to lose track of time out there."

"Understandable." The head nun replied. Her two younger nuns left the conversation and spoke in low voices. I felt my heart beat a little faster as the head nun gently grabbed my hand and ran her thumb over my hand. "Will we be seeing you at the service?"

Without thinking, I nodded and flashed her a smile. "Most definitely." The nun let go of my hand and I wondered if she happened to feel the lack of calluses there.

I left the cathedral. I could go back to the Vikings now; Ascension Day was in three days, and they needed to know that they had three days to prepare for an attack.

A sudden caw made me flinch and drop the basket full of mushrooms and berries. I looked to see a large raven staring at me with beady eyes. I narrowed my eyes at it as it took to the air. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was either Huginn or Muninn.

The sun had gone down by the time I made it back to camp. I almost alerted the Vikings guarding camp, but they relaxed when they saw me. I found the shieldmaiden and returned her basket to her. The sons of Ragnar weren't in the council tent, and they weren't around any of the fires.

Ivar wasn't in his tent either when I finally made it back. I let out a groan of annoyance and started to undress, just to get back into comfortable clothes that didn't try and fall off my shoulders every five seconds.

There was a sudden movement at the tent entrance as I was half undressed and Ivar stood there, leaning heavily on his crutch and staring hard at me. My shoulders were completely bare and my hair was wild looking after a whole day of being held back. The laces keeping the dress on were completely undone, and the dress was only being held up by my hands.

"You came back." Ivar finally said, his eyes going from my hands holding up the dress to my face. Something told me he wasn't just talking about my day trip to York.

I didn't say anything in reply. I just let go of the clothing and let the dress drop to around my ankles, revealing myself completely to Ivar. His ice blue eyes widened as he looked down to my breasts and groin area.

Maybe it was because I had spent today mad at him and also thinking about what life would be like as a nun, or possibly the pent up frustration of having shared the same bed with Ivar for over a month and nothing happening, but I wanted him to _fuck_ me.

Ivar started forward slowly until he was close enough to the bed to be slightly supported by it. He tossed his crutch to the ground and it fell with a clatter. Without breaking eye contact, Ivar reached and started to remove his braces. I frowned slightly, starting forward to help.

"Don't." Ivar growled, and something in his voice made me stop. He gave up on the braces and instead sat himself down on the bed before reaching out and grabbing onto my wrist and pulling me into the space between his legs. He pulled the wrist he was holding onto down until my hand was on his crotch. Our faces were close to each others now and Ivar used his to push my face upwards, to better face him.

"Do you feel that?" Ivar practically growled at me. "Back when I tried to fuck a slave, I thought I was cursed, because no matter what, I could not get _hard_." His voice clipped when I grabbed at him. He lost the upper hand but he still tried to hold onto it. "And now here I am-"

I pressed my forehead harder against his, pushing his face back some. My hand remained holding on to his manhood as it got firmer beneath his breeches. I made eye contact, having no idea where this need, this drive was coming from, but not questioning it. "I want you inside me, Ivar." I said in a low voice.

Ivar's arm suddenly swung and he knocked me onto the bed. With the agility that I kept forgetting he had, Ivar crawled on top of me and began kissing my breasts, alternating between kissing and biting. I made use of my hands by yanking at the string holding his breeches up. Ivar would only let them down low enough to expose himself, but at this point I didn't care that he was still nervous about his legs. When barely any contact was made, I used my left leg to kick against the bed and flip myself over, turning Ivar over with me so that his back was on the bed and once more, I straddled his waist and let him inside me.

It was a whole different experience. Every movement and decision we made seemed to be fueled by pent up frustration and built up lust. I stayed on top of him and my hips moved of their own accord, driving into his hips as he moved himself as much as possible to thrust himself deeper inside me. And every time I tried to lean up to be more in a sitting position, one of Ivar's hands would shoot out and grab a fistful of loose hair to pull me back down so that he could continue kissing and biting my neck and chest, getting increasingly harder and sloppier the longer it lasted.

When Ivar's seed finally came, I felt it shoot inside me and I gasped loudly and high pitched. Ivar laughed airily at the sound of it and I rolled off of him and felt his penis slide out of me, the excess of his seed dripping down the inside of my thighs. I laid down right beside Ivar as he stared up at the roof of the tent, looking sweaty and tired but he still had a smile on his face.

Ivar turned his head to look at me after a long moment of silence. "Do you want to do that every time we have a fight?"

Without thinking, I started laughing, feeling light and tired and sweaty and for the first time in a long time, happy with myself.


	26. 26: York

The Vikings were able to take York almost too easily. I waited behind until the sounds of battle died down before going inside the city. Already, I saw bodies of civilians and guards. I shook my head slightly and continued heading straight towards the cathedral.

When I entered the cathedral, half of me wanted to turn back around. Just three days ago, I had been here and everything was calm and normal. But now corpses filled the floor, dark blood pooling around them. A boy who looked to be around the age of two years old sat between people who must've been his family and he wailed, their blood soaking his clothes. A nun with a bruised face was leaning against a pillar, her eyes wide and unblinking. Where were the other two nuns? I went deeper into the cathedral as Vikings milled around me, looting the bodies and near comatose people around them.

I found the nun from the other day in the front corner of the cathedral. I looked from the nun's pushed up skirts to her wounded looking eyes-the nun with eyes like mine. I shook my head and walked to the nun, helping her into a sitting position. She was numb enough to let me sit her up and adjust her skirts, pulling them down again before I got up and left her.

The body of the other nun was closer to the front, but she looked like she hadn't been raped. She didn't have any wounds on her at all it looked like. I moved past her body with what was starting to feel like sadness until I found the young priest's body. He had molten gold covering his mouth as if someone had poured it directly down there.

"That's just excessive." I said to no one. The sooner this war was over, the better I'd feel. I walked towards the back of the main hall, going into the corridor that led to the rooms that the priest and nuns might've used for day to day business.

Harald Finehair was in the first room, in what looked like a small library. Finehair was ripping books and scrolls from the shelves, trying to see if there was something behind them. I blinked at him and continued down the corridor.

The windows to my left gave me a view of the private gardens of the cathedral. When a door to the gardens came up, I opened it and looked outside. A wall was surrounding the gardens, separating it from the cathedral and the rest of York. I heard someone sniffling as I started to go back inside. I slowly left the doorway and followed the sound of the soft crying.

I found a woman dressed in bright blue hiding among the rose bushes. A little girl around the age of seven was half hidden in the woman's skirts. The little girl's blond hair was disheveled and there was a smudge of blood on her cheek. The woman saw me and flinched away, her green eyes wide and terrified but she refused to look away.

There was an iron barred gate tucked in the corner of the gate and the cathedral. From here I could see the latch on the gate. I looked back down to the woman and the child. In Saxon I said, "Wait until the fighting noises die down. Then escape through that gate and go home. Just barricade yourselves in your home and you should be fine."

The woman looked shocked that I was speaking Saxon but she nodded quickly in understanding. I turned and started to walk away, but then, "How long will this last?"

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. I started to walk away again.

"Why are you being helpful?" She asked again.

I sighed heavily. "I'm tired of needless violence." And with that, I was finally able to leave the gardens. When I was back inside the corridor, I tried looking for a way to lock the door. But if I put a piece of furniture in front of the door, that would just tip off to the Vikings that there was something in this garden.

The other rooms of the cathedral were filled with Vikings looking through drawers and shelves and trying to find anything of value. The treasures of the cathedral would be in the main hall or in the storage rooms underground. I told the Vikings tearing through the offices this and they immediately rushed off to go find the entrance to the storage rooms. When they were gone, I walked into the office and started sorting through the scrolls and books.

A lot of these were proofs of marriages, money notices, proofs of charity work, and the books were version of the Bible in multiple languages. I stacked everything neatly before leaving the room.

The main hall had been cleared of the bodies and a few of the Viking thralls were scrubbing at the blood stains on the floor. A couple of them were near each other, their heads bent close to each other and whispering that stopped immediately when they saw me. One of them, a girl with rare red hair, dipped her head in a way of greeting before going back to the floor, scrubbing hard at the blood stains. The other one, the one with hair like pale gold, continued watching me carefully as I walked past them.

I found the raped nun sitting with her knees tucked to her chest. I approached her carefully. "Do you have anywhere else to go?" I asked her quietly. "I think place is going to be filled with Vikings."

The nun looked up at me with her dark eyes looking dull. "This is God's house."

I glanced around. The blond thrall who had stared me down was still watching me. "I don't think it is anymore."

The nun stood up carefully and I walked with her out of the cathedral. She adjusted her habit. "I know a place I can stay within the city walls. I will also pray for you and these heathens, for God to have mercy on your souls."

"I appreciate that." I said honestly and the nun walked down the steps and walked away from the cathedral with her head held high. I watched her go until she disappeared down the street before turning back around and going back inside.

Some Vikings were pushing the pews into a more central location. The thralls were still scrubbing the blood stains, and I noticed one of the Viking men push one of the thralls out of the way with his foot.

A woman I recognized as one of the healers approached me. "Runa," She said with a nod. I blinked and nodded back. "I'm Hillevi, in case you didn't know. And I was wondering where the healing station should be set up?"

I blinked again and Hillevi looked around the main hall. "I cannot find the sons of Ragnar anywhere." Hillevi explained. "And they trust your opinion, so that means I trust your opinion. A few people got hurt in this attack, and they'll need to be taken care of soon."

I nodded at that. "Follow me. There should be an infirmary somewhere in this cathedral."

"Should there?" Hillevi asked. I assumed she was thinking I'd designate a corner of the cathedral to her or maybe a spot outside or even in a different building. I led Hillevi down a different corridor and into an infirmary. The room was fairly big, hadn't been raided yet, and Hillevi's eyes went wide when she saw it.

"This'll work, right?" I asked.

Hillevi nodded. "This will be perfect. Thank you, Runa."

I smiled at her before leaving, going back into the main hall. The thralls were finished with their work, despite the fact that the floor was still faintly red, dark and red-brown against the tiles. I kicked at the stain with my toe.

"We couldn't get all of it up." The blond thrall from earlier said. Her voice was high pitched and airy sounding. I looked at her and she took a small step back."We've tried to since the bodies were taken out."

I kicked at the spot again. "It'll be fine. I think this piece of the floor is going to be the last thing on anyone's mind." The thrall smiled and nodded before leaving me alone. As she left me, the sons of Ragnar entered the cathedral, moving slowly so that Ivar could keep up with them. Harald was with them and it sounded like he was arguing with Sigurd.

"I am simply saying that Lagertha is not right for that throne." Harald was saying. "Svein came in the night, and he has been to Kattegat fairly recently. Lagertha has become indecisive-"

"And you think you would be a better suit for Kattegat?" Sigurd interjected.

"We'll discuss this more in private, King Harald." Ivar said before whispering something into the older man's ear. Finehair grunted but didn't say any more. Ivar limped away from him and towards me, completely ignoring the thralls nearby. "Is this place cleared out?" He asked me.

"The bodies are being burned out front, as you must've seen." I said, nodding to the front door. "Any townspeople who were in here and still alive were sent somewhere else. Also there may be some Vikings in the underground vaults looking for valuables."

"So all the Saxons are gone?" Ivar asked.

"Almost," I admitted. "There is a woman and child in the gardens, but I hid her and told her to leave through the garden gate when the fighting noise died down."

Ivar was smiling at me. "Good job. No one has troubled you, have they?" I shook my head and Ivar pecked the top of my head. "How does it feel having power again?"

I snorted at him. "I'm confused by what you mean by 'again'." Ivar raised an eyebrow at me, the dried blood on his face cracking slightly. I felt myself smile without thinking. "It feels like I have a purpose other than translating for you and your brothers."

"Of course you have a purpose more than that." Ivar said, shrugging his massive shoulders. He was smirking at me and I laughed out loud at what he was implying.

"A purpose more than translating and sleeping with you, Ivar." I hissed, lowering my voice. Ivar laughed at me and poked my side with his fingers. I could still hear Sigurd and Harald having a hushed argument and Hvitserk had disappeared, along with the redheaded thrall. Her blond companion was speaking to Ubbe about something.

Ivar and I moved farther away. "What's Harald so upset about?" I asked.

"He wants to be king of Norway." Ivar replied. "Kattegat is still considered the sort of capital, and as long as that is Lagertha's home, she is considered the queen of all Norway."

"So Harald wants Kattegat?" I asked, even though that felt like the right answer. Ivar nodded and looked over his shoulder to Sigurd and Harald.

"Kattegat is our home." He said. "Our queen mother always wanted one of us to take our father's throne. We want Harald to keep his own throne in Denmark. But he is an ambitious man and refuses to let go of the thought of being king of Norway."

"So now it's how do you keep a powerful ally pleased while keeping a hold on your own throne?" I finished.

Ivar smiled wolfishly at me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Exactly!"

"Say you eventually please Finehair over there," I said, lowering my voice to avoid being heard. "Which of you brothers will get that throne?"

Ivar looked down to me, his eyes gleaming and telling me the answer. "Whoever takes it."

Ubbe finally left the blond thrall, looking annoyed and he joined me and Ivar. "She has no idea where Hvitserk went to."

"Hvitserk will come back once he and the slave are done." Ivar said dismissively.

"We need to plan for an attack soon." Ubbe said darkly. "Ove returned with his scouting party. The Northumbrians were closer than we thought."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The Northumbrian army and their new king were just thirty miles north of here when we took this city." Ubbe explained. "They will be here by nightfall."

Ivar's gaze had darkened. "They cannot take the city back."

"We need to better fortify the walls," Ubbe said. "We took this city almost too easily. We still have people on the outside, bringing in all our supplies. If we expect to hold this place, the walls must be stronger, the gates locked, no one allowed in or even out."

"That'd be doable except for one part of the city." I said. "Follow me." I ducked out from under Ivar's arm and led the two of them into one of the offices down the corridor. Ubbe and Ivar entered the room after me, looking intrigued. I pulled out a map from one of the stacks I had made and laid it out on the desk. "This entire area of this city is from when the Romans built it. According to those papers," I pointed to another stack I had made. "That's the area of the city where it was more impoverished. The walls are not as strong and it would be months of work to get them strong again."

Ivar's eyes were lighting up again. "Then we let them in." He said quietly. Ubbe had enough time to turn with his mouth wide open, ready to argue, before Ivar continued. The more he talked about trapping the Roman neighborhood, the more brilliant a plan I thought it was.

By the time Sigurd joined us, there was a plan to start setting up the Roman part of the city. By the time Hvitserk finally found us, we were starting to leave to get the plan in action.

"You can go scout the Northumbrians." Ubbe said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Take a dozen good men and go see where they are exactly." Hvitserk grumbled about it but left anyway.

"You sure it's safe beyond the wall?" I asked Ubbe once Hvitserk was gone. "What happens to us if Hvitserk gets caught?"

"Hvitserk won't betray us, Runa." Ubbe replied, patting my shoulder reassuringly.

Sure enough, Hvitserk returned right around sundown. He told us that the Northumbrians had made camp about a mile out from the city. "It won't take them exactly that long to find out about that weak spot."

"I'm praying to every god there is that they find that weak spot." Ivar said darkly. I thought about how Queen Kwenthrith said that Aethelwulf was marching up here, to join his forces with Northumbria.

"When the army of Wessex gets here," I started slowly. Everyone, all the leaders of the Viking army looked to me with narrowed eyes. "They'll join up immediately. Queen Kwenthrith informed me that they'd be joining their houses again as well. Once Prince Aethelred and Princess Blaeja are wed, both armies will have to stay until the other leaves."

"So we delay a wedding?" Finehair asked, sounding unsure.

"Not necessarily." I said. "I'm not sure how Vikings do it, but Saxon weddings are a bit of a big deal. Without a priest, it can't happen. Even if they had one, they wouldn't be able to skip out at least a week's worth of time for the newlyweds to act married."

"So after marriage, you Saxons fuck for at least a week straight?" Hvitserk asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

Without looking at Ivar, I said, "At the least. In times of peace, it's more like a month."

There was a hushed muttering as the leaders tried to figure this out. Earl Asmund from somewhere in Norway looked back to me. "So in this situation, this nephew of yours and his wife would be excused for a few days to get familiar, but everyone else would…?"

"Everyone else would have to abide by the wedding games." I said. When my answer was met with blank stares, I explained. "Wedding games where the people who witnessed have ten days to act likes fools and get drunk in the name of celebrating the marriage."

Finehair looked to where Ivar was sitting beside me. "We could use that. Wait for those Saxons to get married and while everyone is preoccupied, strike and kill any Saxon we find."

"But then the two kingdoms would be even more united than they already are." Ove said from his father's side. "It makes more sense to just kill the groom before the wedding."

"But there's another prince from Wessex." Sigurd pointed out. He glanced to me. "You have another nephew, right?"

I nodded and swallowed as Sigurd looked back out to the other leaders. "If the first prince dies, what's stopping them from marrying the girl to the other brother?"

They started muttering again and Hvitserk leaned past Ivar to me. In a lower voice, "So when you married Kenton, did you and he have a week of fucking or a month?"

"Hvitserk!" I hissed at him.

Ivar turned his head and he and Hvitserk met eyes. I could barely hear what Ivar was snarling at his older brother, but his body language was ringing loud and clear. I looked away from them to where Ubbe was on my other side, his leg bouncing.

"So we kill the girl!" Earl Frode announced in a loud voice. It was clear he was joking, but judging by the looks on others faces, they were beginning to take that as a serious offer.

The conversation went from debating killing a seventeen year old girl to killing the new kings of Northumbria and Wessex. I sat in silence this time, listening to these men debate blood eagling my only brother. Then the conversation was back to this marriage pact and how it could be avoided.

"I _know_ you were jesting, Frode." Earl Asmund was saying. "But if this girl dies, then there is no leg for this marriage pact to stand on. The Northumbrian king has no other sister to bargain. Killing one girl is much simpler than killing two warrior princes."

I had a thought in my head, one that had to do with whoever took control in East Anglia when all of this was done. Princess Blaeja could be a queen in either Wessex or East Anglia.

The meeting eventually ended when the wine ran out. I remained in my seat as the earls left, until it was me and Ragnar's sons left.

"You've been chewing on your lip for half that meeting." Ivar finally said once the door was closed. He shifted in his seat to face me. "What're you thinking about? And why won't we like it?"

I immediately looked to Ubbe. "You remember how I said whoever takes control of East Anglia will have to adopt some Saxon customs?"

Ubbe sighed heavily and nodded, looking he knew where I was going. I looked to Ivar, Hvitserk, and Sigurd. "It is entirely possible to end the engagement between Aethelred and Blaeja. It'd be hard to do and a lot of convincing for King Ecgberht, but it's technically doable. And that's by getting her engaged to someone else. Someone who has equal standing with Aethelred, someone who is technically a prince and has their own kingdom to offer."

Ivar was the first to catch on. "No."

"I thought of that about twenty minutes ago." Ubbe told me, nudging me in the side with his elbow.

" _No_." Ivar repeated.

Sigurd stood up and was pacing. "'It'd be a lot of convincing for King Ecgberht' no shit!"

"Fuck no." Ivar repeated.

"I heard you." I said to Ivar. To Sigurd I said, "I also said it'd be hard."

"Why would King Ecgberht even agree to give his sister over to the men who killed their father?" Sigurd asked. Hvitserk had gone silent and he was staring at the table in front of him. Ivar was glaring at me as if I had already gone through with the plan and he was supposed to get married in two days.

I shrugged. "I never said we'd do it. I'm thinking this through a Saxon perspective, Sigurd. Princess Blaeja is a pawn in this war. Whoever marries her also gets an alliance from Northumbria. I was honestly thinking of putting her with Magnus of Mercia, but Kwenthrith is insistent about marrying him to a Viking girl."

"So if one of us married her," Hvitserk started slowly. "Then what? We get a throne in East Anglia, and her as a wife?"

"You'd marry her, have heirs with her, keep Northumbria far away by having their princess at your side." I said. "That's all marriage pacts between kingdoms are; hostage situations in which the hostage is married to their captor."

"Oh, is that how you felt?" Ivar asked, sounding bitter.

"I knew that's what it was." I snapped back at him. "I didn't get to meet Kenton until a few days before the actual wedding. My marriage was for a stronger alliance with King Aelle. King Aelle wasn't happy with how the Wessex royal family was acting with his daughter and I'm still just a bastard. I couldn't marry his actual son so I was given to a lesser cousin of his. It's all politics with nothing personal tied to it."

They were silent after I was finished. Hvitserk narrowed his eyes at my words and looked to Ubbe. "How come you're not involved in this?"

"I'm already married." Ubbe said bluntly. Ivar narrowed his eyes and looked at me.

I stood up. "It will odds are not happen, so stop shitting yourselfs about it. But whoever does settle East Anglia will more than likely have to take a Saxon wife; Blaeja is just the best option for that. Now if you'll excuse me." I stalked out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Ivar ended up joining me in our room about fifteen minutes later. I was still pacing as he entered and he watched me for a while before sitting on the edge of the bed and he began to undo the braces on his legs. We stayed in silence for only two minutes before Ivar turned and face me.

"So whoever takes control of East Anglia," He said. "They would have to take a Saxon wife?"

"If they want to be taken seriously by other kingdoms and any of the lords and ladies in East Anglia, yes they'll have to." I said grimly. Ivar was still looking at me expectantly and I smiled and shook my head. "I know what you're thinking, Ivar."

"What am I thinking?" He asked, his voice getting that dangerously playful hint in it. I sat beside him on the bed.

"You're thinking that if you're the one who takes East Anglia," I started as he rested his head on my shoulder. "That you could marry me and that'll work. Which it wouldn't. I'm still a bastard child, Ivar. If you were the one who took East Anglia, you'd have to get a wife with real standing."

Ivar threw himself down on the bed. "Fine. I marry this Northumbrian princess and have heirs with her, but keep you as well. You'd be my real wife."

"I don't think that'd fly over well." I replied. Ivar snorted and his hand started tugging on my clothes.

"Please get these off and talk politics to me." Ivar said, grinning broadly at me.

"I don't think talking about marriage pacts and politics is the best for pillow talk." I said, standing up and removing the dress I was wearing. Ivar sat up and practically clawed his shirts off, revealing his bare chest. He still wouldn't take his pants off all the way, but that didn't matter much.

I got back on the bed and straddled Ivar, planting my knees on either side of his waist. Ivar sat up, nearly knocking me off balance but he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me sitting on his lap.

"I am serious, Augusta." Ivar said in a low voice. "If none of the others do it, I will take East Anglia and hold it until my dying day. And then my children will hold it after me until the end of time. As long as I get to have you by my side, I do not care about where we end up."

I felt like that wasn't true, even though my gut started squirming at the sound of his words. I kissed him anyway before pushing him back down onto the bed.


	27. 27: Peace

The Northumbrians and Vikings seemed to stare each other down for the three weeks they were there. The Northumbrian camp was a mile away, and they spent their time making a wall made of wooden stakes around it. As they fortified their camp, the Vikings fortified York's walls and Ivar led a group of men to set traps around the narrow streets of the Roman part of the city.

After a debate with the Viking leaders, I won the ability to let the Saxon people out of York a few dozen every day. Each time we opened the gates, I waved them out telling them to go stay somewhere else and come back only when they here that the Vikings have left for good. Several Saxons threw a bless you at me, others ignored me and rushed out the gates.

I talked to Ubbe and we were both unsure if Blaeja was in the Northumbrian camp at all. "The only way we'd be able to know is going in there." Ubbe muttered one night on the city walls as we glared in the direction of their camp. He glanced at me. "I can't ask you to do that, Runa. If you got caught…"

"If I got caught sneaking into a Saxon camp," I said quietly. "There's no way I'd be able to leave. Not without fighting my way out. I'm not much of a fighter, Ubbe."

Ubbe shrugged. "You could have fooled me. What with Kenton-"

"That was different." I cut him off. "You know that was."

"I know." Ubbe said. He nudged my side gently. "Whatever happens, I want to be able to fight my way out of here."

The army of Wessex arrived the very next day. I swallowed hard when the scouting party told us that King Aethelwulf was there, and how he apparently brought his wife.

"She was riding right beside him," The scout who was one of Earl Asmund's said. "Dark hair, all gathered on one side-"

I stood up from my seat and began pacing. Sigurd dismissed the scout and turned to me. "He brought his wife?"

"He brought his damned wife." I echoed through grit teeth.

"Is that a bad thing?" Ivar asked slowly.

"If Judith is here, then it's safe to assume that Blaeja is there." I said. "Hell, let's add that Queen Ealhswith is here too." Seeing their confused looks, I added, "She's Blaeja's mother."

"So the wedding will most definitely happen then?" Ubbe asked darkly. When I nodded in agreement, the group of them looked around.

Hvitserk scratched his face. "I think I have an idea about how we know when it'll happen."

"We can't send spies in there, Hvitserk." Sigurd said, as if he and Hvitserk had already a part of this conversation before.

Hvitserk narrowed his eyes at Sigurd. "I know. We can't send men in there; it's too suspicious for some stranger to come in and start asking questions. But I was thinking about if we send other people into the camp, more specifically women."

We stared at him for a long moment. Ivar blinked and shook his head slightly. "Sorry?"

Hvitserk leaned forward in his chair. "Armies attract camp followers, right? We've had a cluster of women following us since before we found Runa over there."

"Saxon women?" I asked. Hvitserk nodded.

"Men talk when they fuck," Hvitserk said matter-of-factly. "Or at least I'm more willing to talk afterwards. If we send some camp followers into their camp, have them sleep around for information, they'd be able to slip away a lot easier than a soldier."

"How are you planning on getting them to do this?" Ubbe asked. "If they are Saxon, they'd be turning their back on their homeland."

"Pay them." Hvitserk replied. He had already thought this through, it seemed. "We have lots of treasure from Winchester and the Mercian queen and now from here. Face it, we have more Saxon money than we know what to do with. Pay the whores to give us information and when the war is over, they'll be able to live comfortable lives."

I walked over to Hvitserk after a long pause. He watched me carefully, his smile fading slightly as I got closer. I grabbed his face and kissed the top of his head.

"Oh that's smart." I said. "That's really smart. Do you know where these camp followers are right now?"

About an hour later, Hvitserk had found the Saxon camp followers. The women had been following the army for a very long time, and I was vaguely surprised to see that I recognized some of them. There were only nine of them, and they had been doing a lot of work around the army, from cooking and mending clothes to the usual sleeping with any Viking who wanted sex.

"So we sleep around with the soldiers and how do we bring the news back?" One dark haired girl asked me.

"Stagger your comings and goings." Hvitserk said once I relayed the question to him. "You don't all have to come back on the same day. Maybe someone comes back every two days while another only returns every ten."

I advised them not to try sleeping with either kings or princes. "They're held to a higher standard and seducing them would take a very long time; time we do not have. Focus on soldiers and guards. Also see if there's a priest anywhere."

Looking pleased with their mission, we staggered the exiting of the camp followers throughout the next three days. They were supposed to come up with excuses on their own, but for the most part they claimed they would have been following the army from Wessex. Others claimed to be from York.

"Let's hope your whore plan works." Sigurd said to Hvitserk once the last of them were gone.

When the first woman came back two days later, it became clear that it worked. She met with me and the other leaders of the Heathen Army, looking nervous to be speaking in front of them.

"They plan on attacking tomorrow at dawn," She said. "They've noticed that the Roman part of the city has been neglected, and they're planning on breaking through the weaker wall to get in."

When I translated for them all, a massive smile broke out on Ivar's face. I looked back to her. "Do you know who you got this information from?"

"Mannel of Northumbria." She answered immediately. With a satisfied smile, she added, "He told me I reminded him of his wife."

"She got the information from Mannel of Northumbria." I told the Vikings. "He's Queen Judith's cousin and my former husband's older brother. The strength of Bamburgh must be a part of their army then." After I thanked the woman, she was dismissed and she told me she'd be going right back to the camp.

Ubbe and Finehair took a lot of men to go check the Roman ruins, to make sure the traps were still well prepared. Sigurd and most of the leaders went to the men and women to spread the word about a battle at dawn. Hvitserk strolled off after Sigurd, looking pleased that his plan had worked. Ivar and I were left to walk to the Roman ruins by ourselves.

"I did not know your husband had a brother." Ivar said.

"I didn't know until after we were married." I replied with a shrug. "If Mannel was ever in Bamburgh while I was, I never saw him, or met him. You know I was kept out of all those war meetings."

Ivar grunted softly, limping beside me. He was getting a lot better at walking. Though there were days when he was grimacing at the end of the day. I had walked into our room a lot just to see him already there, sitting and breathing deeply from the effort of walking on weak legs, his face shining with sweat. But those moments lived only between us; if I was anyone else, I felt like he would've thrown things at me.

"Have you been to East Anglia?" Ivar asked as we got closer to the ruins.

"Only once, I think." I said after a moment of thinking about it. "Aethelwulf took me and Aethelred and Alfred to visit Lord Edmund at Ipswich. My goodness it was an awful visit."

Ivar snorted in amusement. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, none of us were told why we were going." I said, smiling at the memory. "Aethelred was twelve, I was eleven, and Alfred was nine. Aethelred was allowed to ride a horse beside his father while Alfred and I had to stay in the wheelhouse the whole time with a nursemaid. It was maddening and Alfred and I ended up hating each other for a few days after we finally reached Ipswich."

We had slowed down enough and I wrapped my arm around Ivar's free arm, the other using his crutch. "Lord Edmund had just gotten married to his first wife, he's on wife number two right now. But Lord Edmund was the oldest of nine children, with the youngest three being the exact same ages as Aethelred, Alfred and I."

Ivar let out a dark chuckle. "He was trying to marry you off already? How'd you take it?"

I chewed on the corner of my mouth and Ivar laughed again. "I was angry. Wigstan, the youngest son and the one I'd marry, was a fat little jerk. You laugh, but he was so mean back then! He heard I was a bastard and started wailing to Edmund how he'd rather die than marry a bastard."

Ivar was too busy laughing at me to continue our slow walk so we stopped for a moment. The blond slave from the cathedral was nearby, sitting with a group of slaves who were doing laundry. She was watching us with curious eyes. I decided to ignore her as Ivar recovered himself.

"Some fat eleven year old hurt your feelings?" He asked. "Is he still alive? I'll gladly kill him for you."

"I was eleven, Ivar!" I feebly tried to defend my former self. "And I wasn't the only one unhappy about this. Aethelred got angry with Aethelwulf for trying to marry him off to Aethelgifu-poor girl had some scarring from a childhood pox but was otherwise perfectly fine. Alfred just had his heart set on some other girl in Wessex to even consider the girl he was paired up with."

"So what happened?" Ivar asked curiously, beginning to walk again.

"Aethelred completely shunned Aethelgifu," I continued. "Alfred spent the whole complaining and annoying Aethelwulf and Edmund. And I may have gotten into a fight with Wigstan."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" Ivar stopped again and held a hand out, it bumping against my belly.

"Wigstan was being a little shit and I may have called him a sow." I said with a shrug. "Wigstan actually swung at me, missed, and I didn't miss when I swung at his face."

Ivar covered his face with one of his hands and his laughter sounded airy and breathless. I laughed along with him, the memory still so fresh in my mind. "Lord Edmund was furious. He vowed he'd never marry his siblings to Aethelwulf's family ever. Aethelwulf was furious with us all for maybe one day before laughing about it all with us."

Ivar shook his head and limped closer so that we were chest to chest. "You poor thing; being engaged off to a parade of shitty men before marrying the rudest."

I gave an over dramatic sigh. "My life as a highborn has been difficult." Ivar laughed again and kissed my forehead.

"Come on, Augusta." Ivar said. "Let's go see how those traps are going."

The night passed in a slow crawl. Ivar soon left me to take control of the Vikings, getting them into position for the dawn. I took myself up to a tower, with windows allowing me to view the city streets below. I was half asleep when the four brothers all marched into the tower's highest room.

"Wake up, Augusta." Sigurd said, coming over and gently shaking my shoulder. I blinked a lot and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Outside, the sky was gray.

"They haven't come yet, have they?" I asked in a groggy voice.

"Not yet." Ubbe said. "We haven't heard any war horns; they must be trying to keep it quiet." He looked to Hvitserk over his shoulder. "Your whore idea was a good one."

"Thank you," Hvitserk said, straightening up and looking proud of himself.

Ivar limped to me, tossing his black cloak at me. "You look cold." He said simply. I stood up and put the cloak on, pulling the hood over my head and wrapping it around me tight before sitting back down. Ivar smirked slightly before limping to the window.

"I think I see them." Ivar said after several minutes of silence. There was a faint sound of rams hitting the walls and they all nodded. "That's definitely them."

As they broke through the wall, I got up and squeezed my way between Sigurd and Hvitserk, trying to look out the window with them. The Saxons started running through the hole in the wall and started climbing over the wall.

"Oh look," Ivar said, pointing at the wall. "It's Aethelwulf."

I followed his finger and shifted my feet when I saw my older brother climbing on top of the wall. And then Aethelred and Alfred appeared on either side of him.

"C'mon." Ubbe said. "Let's get down there." Ubbe led the way and his brothers melted into the shadows after him, leaving me alone at the top of the tower. Aethelwulf and my nephews climbed back down the wall and into the city. The Saxons kept coming and it was still quiet in the city. I strained to see the men without leaning fully out of the window.

When the first man screamed, I shifted my feet as the sounds of battle started in full force. I had seen those traps they had made, the pits full up spikes and streets with spilled oil, easy for fire to light. The Saxons wouldn't stand a chance.

As it progressed, the fighting seemed to move towards streets closer to me. I was able to see Saxons in Wessex armor battling Vikings. Arrows were being launched from the windows, hitting Saxons before they could even realize where the arrows were coming from.

This was the closest I had been to a battle before, I suddenly realized. Every other time, I was only able to see the aftermath when hostages had been taken and the dead had been collected, by their fellow Vikings and the Valkyries.

I gave the dark dawn sky a glance. Were there Valkyries up there already, picking and choosing the brave enough dead? I cleared my throat and closed my eyes for a moment, not sure how to pray to a pagan god.

"Odin," I said out loud, not sure how to start this sort of prayer. "Please do what you can to help them win this battle." I opened my mouth to say amen but something told me that Odin didn't need amen to know the prayer was over. I shifted my feet again, wanting to move more but afraid to leave this spot.

Thunder boomed deafeningly and rain began to pour. That had nothing to do with my prayer, I told myself defiantly. The sky had been looking gray all morning.

Watching the people fight was different than seeing the aftermath. Spurts of blood sprayed into the air more and I swallowed at the sight of the bodies beginning to pile up. After what felt like ages, I heard a call in Saxon.

"Retreat!"

"Fall back!"

I let out a loud sigh as the Saxons started trampling each other to leave the Roman ruins. I was about to step away from the window when I saw a very familiar form being carried over the wall.

Aethelred had gotten hurt. He wasn't moving and three unknown soldiers were taking him away from the fight. Where was Aethelwulf and Alfred? I remained at that window until I saw my brother and nephew following after Aethelred's limp body. Only when I heard Viking cheers did I leave the tower and into the streets below.

The Vikings looked positively gleeful to have finally fought and won. I had been getting the feeling of restlessness, but now they were settled. I walked through them as they celebrated, all of them still covered in blood and gore.

I made it back to the cathedral before running into one of Ragnar's sons. Hvitserk spotted me first and bowled into me, lifting me off my feet and holding me in the air for a moment before putting me back on my feet.

"We won." Hvitserk said, a big smile on his face.

I took a look outside and then back to him. "You know, I hadn't noticed." Hvitserk laughed at that, his face covered in red and his braids were half fallen apart. "Where's everyone else?"

"Sigurd got a bad slash on his gut, so he's with the healers." Hvitserk said, pointing farther into the cathedral. "I spotted Ubbe fighting some Northumbrian highborn."

"How did you tell they were highborn?" I asked sharply.

"He was surrounded by a bunch of well armored guards." Hvitserk answered, his over friendly demeanor fading away a bit when he heard the sound of my voice. "Ubbe had to really fight to get anywhere near him. D'you know anyone like that?"

I mind went wild for a moment before settling on, "I think maybe King Ecgberht? As far as I know, he isn't much of a warrior; he's only fifteen from what I remember. King Aelle used to. Father told me once that King Aelle only stopped his fighting when Ecgberht was born."

"He should've kept fighting to teach his son." Hvitserk said gruffly as Ubbe and Finehair walked up the steps to the cathedral. Ubbe greeted me warmly as Finehair just nodded and Hvitserk raised an eyebrow at the king's retreating back. "I think he's warming up to you, Runa."

"Anything's better than wanting me dead." I said bluntly.

When Ivar finally showed back up later, he was completely covered in blood and the light of battle shining in his eyes. "We have held York, Augusta." Ivar hissed into my ear. "And soon, we will take East Anglia, and when we sail to take Kattegat away from that bitch Lagertha, I'm bringing you with me."

When I turned to Ivar with my mouth open and ready to talk about that, he interrupted me by kissing me hard. The taste of blood crossed my lips and Ivar pulled away just as fast, holding onto my face with his bloody hand.

Ivar had been on top that night, able to pin me down after a few minutes and coming inside of me fast and hot. When he was finished, he let his arms go out from under him and he landed on top of me heavily.

"Ow!" I gasped as his body weight knocked the air out of me. "Why, Ivar? It would've taken you an extra two seconds to roll to the left!"

Ivar made a humming noise, his head laying on my chest, right below my throat. His hair was loose and free from his braids, falling around his face in a sweaty and straggly mess.

I lifted a hand and ran my hand through the mass of hair. "You're a mess."

He made another humming noise, this time sounding like he agreed with me. But he pressed his face into my collar and wrapped an arm around my head, getting comfortable. I scratched the crown of his head. "You can't sleep directly on top of me, you know?"

"I'm already asleep." Ivar muttered into my skin. His hand reached out and pressed against my mouth, and I found myself smiling without meaning to.

* * *

Ubbe was the first to start talking about making peace. "I want to claim the land King Ecbert promised, and go home."

"If we make peace with them now, they'll think of us as weak." Ivar insisted. "And besides, we haven't decided who will take control of East Anglia when we claim it."

Sigurd, still recovering from a nasty looking wound to the stomach listened to all this. "I think it should random now. Whoever takes East Anglia, let it be a random selection of one of us."

"And who's going to pick that random selection?" Ivar asked, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Hvitserk nodded at Ivar. "Everyone in this army would be biased." Sigurd soon grew tired of arguing and dropped it, looking more sullen and angry than before. Ubbe and his brothers started arguing and I quickly snuck out of the room before the fight got too bad.

It was a couple nights after that when I was suddenly grabbed by Ubbe. The older man yanked me into a corridor, nearly knocking me into Hvitserk. "You know there was a better way to get my attention?" I said, rubbing my arm when Ubbe let me go.

"Sorry," Ubbe muttered, looking outside the corridor. He seemed nervous. "But I need your help. I want to talk to the Saxons."

"What?" I asked darkly.

"Augusta," Ubbe said, using my real name. "We need to talk to them in order to make peace. We have held York. We don't need those fucking Mercians. Let's just go settle East Anglia and move on."

I wanted to agree with Ubbe, I wanted this war to be over. But another part of me didn't want to go back there. I didn't want to be in that camp. I just knew the people I'd see again, the questions I'd be asked.

"Ubbe," I said in a small voice. "I want to help, but I have a bad feeling about going in that camp."

Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at each other over my head before Ubbe looked back down to me. "I know. None of this is fair to you, but there is no one else who can speak for both groups."

Hvitserk's hands were on my shoulders for a moment. "We're going to be there the entire time, Runa. When your brother gives you shit, you've got two more brothers right behind you. Ubbe and I won't leave your side."

"You wouldn't know how to speak to them without me there." I said dryly, shrugging Hvitserk's hands off my shoulders. Hvitserk and Ubbe looked at each other again over my head and I waved my hands in front of their lines of sight. "Stop giving each other that look! I'm down here!"

Ubbe looked back down to me. "We need you, Augusta. Please come with us to translate. We just want this war to end."

As the sky got darker, I left York with Ubbe and Hvitserk on either side of me. I still felt like I was shaking, and my stomach felt like snakes were writhing inside me. Hvitserk led the way towards the camp, somehow already knowing the way. Ubbe stayed close behind me, nudging me forward every time I slowed down.

"I'm right behind you," Ubbe muttered to me, his hand brushing against my back. The guard at the Saxon camp nearly killed us on the spot, but I darted in front of Hvitserk.

"Don't kill us." I barked at the guard in Saxon. "We need to speak with King Aethelwulf and King Ecgberht."

"Who's asking?" The guard asked shakily, still staring at Ubbe and Hvitserk standing at my shoulders.

"I am Augusta of Wessex, sister of King Aethelwulf of Wessex." I snapped, straightening myself up. "Now go get him so I can have a conversation with him."

The guard scrambled away and I heard Hvitserk whistle lowly right behind me. He leaned down into my ear. "I don't understand what you just said, but you need to be commanding more."

"Thanks, Hvitserk." I said as he straightened back up. A couple more guards came out and, after making sure none of us had weapons on us, escorted the three of us into the camp and into a large tent that was already filled with people.

The Saxons looked like they didn't know what to think when I walked in with Ubbe and Hvitserk at my heels. King Aethelwulf and King Ecgberht sat side by side, Ecgberht looking dwarfed by Aethelwulf. Alfred was on the other side of Aethelwulf and his eyes were flicking between me and the Vikings. There was a man sitting nearby, a sword on his belt and a cross around his neck, and he was glaring hard at Ubbe and Hvitserk, not paying any attention to me. There were lesser important people there too, like Merrell of Northumbria and even Queen Ealhswith, hovering near her son's shoulder. Where was Judith? Where was Aethelred?

"Augusta," Aethelwulf said slowly. "I heard these Vikings want peace?"

"Yes." I replied. "Their need for revenge for Ragnar Lothbrok's death is done. Now they just want to claim the land that our father granted them."

Aethelwulf looked stunned. "The what?"

I looked to Ubbe. "Can I have the grant?" Ubbe handed me the folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to me. I unfolded it and showed it to Aethelwulf. "Our father, King Ecbert, granted the Northmen the kingdom of East Anglia." I handed the parchment to Aethelwulf, who was frowning hard.

"Why do they want peace now?" King Ecgberht asked me and I forced myself not to flinch at how _young_ he was. He was younger than Alfred and Ivar.

But I held the little king's gaze. "They are simply tired of fighting. My friend has a wife he wants to go home to; many of the people in the army do."

Aethelwulf stood and I immediately felt both Ubbe and Hvitserk tense up behind me. "We will discuss this and you will have an answer before long." I nodded at that and left the tent with the guards, Ubbe and Hvitserk shadowing me.

The tent we were taken to was close by, and rather small. The guards stayed outside while the three of us were made to wait inside.

"This is going well." Hvitserk said, taking a seat. I started pacing and kept my narrowed eyes on the tent's entrance.

Ubbe sat down beside Hvitserk, looking more nervous than his brother. Ubbe looked up to me with worry in his eyes. "You seem nervous."

"I think you'd have to be stupid not to be." I said curtly. Hvitserk blinked and snorted.

"I'm more worried about how angry Ivar and Sigurd are going to be when we get back with a peace." Hvitserk replied. I groaned lightly at that.

We weren't waiting for long before someone barged into the tent. Ubbe started to his feet, but was knocked back down with the back of someone's hand. I started forward right as another guard shoved me back hard. I fell down onto my back and the point of someone's sword landed gently right underneath my chin. Hvitserk was being pinned down with the same treatment while the man from the tent was hitting Ubbe's in the face over and over.

The man stopped and straightened himself. "You heathens lie, when you say you want peace." He was speaking Viking. The man landed another blow on Ubbe's face and Hvitserk flinched. "I will spare you for now. The Lord does not condone killing a man without a weapon."

He left the tent and the guards surrounding Ubbe and Hvitserk picked them up by their scruffs and dragged them outside. I managed to make eye contact with Hvitserk before he vanished from sight.

"Let me go." I ordered in Saxon, trying to get to my feet. The soldier shoved me back to the ground.

"Under the orders of his grace, the bishop Heahmund," The soldier started. "You are ordered to remain here and repent."

"Repent for what?" I asked shrilly as the sounds of jeering came from outside. I launched myself to my feet and threw my body weight into the soldier. He grunted and a mailed fist came out of nowhere and landed hard on my temple. My head hit the ground before everything went dark.


	28. 28: This is Gospel

"You covet but do not possess." Heahmund was ranting at me, throwing yet another verse at me. "You kill and envy but you cannot obtain; you fight and wage war. You do not possess because you do not ask. You ask but do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions." Spittle was flying and I felt the drops land on the back of my bare neck.

I panted hard, feeling sparks of pain fly with every breath. Even if I wanted to say anything, I felt like I would fall apart the moment I tried. My silence didn't stop Heahmund as another lash ripped apart the skin on the back of my thigh.

Heahmund raised his voice to be heard above my screaming. "Repent, Augusta of Wessex." When I couldn't reply, Heahmund brought the metal linked whip down on the back of my thighs again and more blood dripped down the length of my legs.

When I had woken up after being knocked out, I had been shackled by my left wrist to a stake in the ground, the tent's small amount of furniture had been removed except for a stool, where this man named Heahmund had been sitting and waiting for me to wake up.

Heahmund the warrior bishop had wasted no time beginning to convert me. While telling me about the people of Ninevah and how they were greedy and selfish and became closer to God by casting themselves down into the dust, he grabbed fistfuls of my hair and sheared it down close to the scalp. I had cried in pain as the blade would occasionally slice into my head and blood streamed down my face. Heahmund just continued, sawing through my hair until it was all but gone, leaving behind a short and prickly and bleeding mess behind.

"Delilah cut off Samson's hair," Heahmund had said as he bent around me, picking up fistfuls of fallen hair. "The unfaithful woman stole the strength of Samson and betrayed him. But nuns in their convents shear their heads; I can only hope that this brings you closer to our God."

When Heahmund left after that, I picked up the first stone I could find and threw it after him, wanting to hurt him as badly as I was hurting right now.

Over the next few days after that, it just got worse.

Heahmund seemed to think that feeding me wouldn't help me repent. So I ate a single slice of bread once a day with one cup of bitter tasting water. I lost tracks of days as Heahmund ripped the clothes from my back to better get to my bare back and thighs.

The whip Heahmund had brought with him was frightening looking. It was around three feet long and metal, connected with metal links that gently clinked together as he moved it. I watched Heahmund cautiously as he moved around me so that he was facing my naked back.

"Who are you?" He asked in a quiet voice.

I heard the swing of the metal whip before I felt it. I wailed the moment it hit, ripping open my skin from the right side of my lower back to the center of my spine. Already I could feel the torn edges of skin raising up and the hot blood starting to drip down my back. I raised my head and half turned it to try and see Heahmund.

"What the fuck was the point of that?" I screamed right before Heahmund hit me again. I screamed again as another lash opened up my back.

"A proper lady does not use that sort of language." Heahmund said bluntly. "Your heathens might, but you are a highborn daughter of a king."

"I thought I was a lowly bastard," I grunted, bracing myself for the lash. When it came, tears fell from my eyes almost forcefully.

"Bastard or not," Heahmund said in a deviously quiet voice. "You will learn respect again. Let the Lord flow through you and cleanse you of the demons that molested you."

I panted as Heahmund spoke, thinking it'd be wiser to keep silent. Heahmund was pacing behind me and I could see silhouettes outside the tent moving around.

Thoughts of Ivar and the others came to my mind, and I wanted desperately to be back inside the walls of York. Hvitserk would say something playful and inappropriate but well meaning all the same. Sigurd would argue some point, whether it was about the joke or politics or battle strategies. And Ivar...Ivar would be by my side, I was sure of it.

The lash came out of nowhere and I was ripped from the memory with a howl of pain. "Pay attention, Augusta of Wessex." Heahmund's voice cut through the sobs I didn't mean to release. "Because that is who you are. You are not a heathen Viking. You are a widow who whored herself to survive. With a proper amount of praying and cleansing, you will be as pure as you were when Kenton married you."

I didn't think that was remotely possible when another lash came and I let myself howl as loud as I could. I couldn't see anything anymore for my tears, and my back was throbbing. I could feel the blood running down my back. I had no idea how many lashes that was, I just wanted it to end.

Days later, I could just imagine how scarred my back must've looked. I could feel myself getting thinner the more days went by. How long had it been since coming here with Ubbe and Hvitserk? I had no idea as days bled into each other.

The first time something was different was when I heard war horns sounding from somewhere nearby. Heahmund didn't show up that day, and I figured out that a battle had been going on. I spent the whole time people were gone trying to wrench my thinning wrist out of the shackle, but to no avail. The end result just left my left wrist bloodied and raw and screaming with pain.

Maybe three days after that, someone who wasn't Heahmund showed up. King Ecgberht, a fifteen year old boy, looked nervous and bashful to see me sitting naked in the dirt, my skin covered in brown and red and my hair all but gone.

"Heahmund told us he was helping you repent." The young king said, sounding like he was trying to sound brave. "Have you?"

"No." I said, my voice cracking from lack of use. I coughed heavily as the king stared at anything that wasn't my breasts. "Why are you here, your majesty?"

"I just thought you should know that Prince Aethelred is dead." He said, trying to brace himself more. I stared at him blankly and he continued. "He was injured in that first battle, and the priests couldn't do much to stop an infection from setting in."

Aethelred was dead. I blinked at the burn of tears and covered my eyes with my hands. Aethelred was just twenty years old; he was supposed to get married-he didn't deserve to be dead.

"My mother passed last night." King Ecgberht added, his voice growing weaker. I looked up at him to see a little boy looking like he was trying not to cry.

Queen Ealhswith had always been a sickly woman, I remembered from Judith's stories. "I'm so sorry, King Ecgberht." I said numbly. "I mean that. I know what it's like to lose a mother."

That's when the king had started crying right in front of me. "I just want this to stop!" He cried to me. "First my father, now my mother, and then Blaeja's going to have to leave me!" He broke off and cried more and I let myself cry too, for Aethelred more than anything.

After a long moment's of crying with each other, the young king finally looked at me. "Did your Vikings really want peace?" He asked softly.

"Yes." I told him firmly. "Though now I'm not sure if they'll ever want peace. Was that them you fought the other day?"

To my surprise, he answered, "No, that was the Mercians. They have sided with your Vikings."

Queen Kwenthrith had finally sent her army. I fought the urge to smile in this king's face and said, "Sire, I promise you that if I get back to the Vikings, I will forge a peace with you so that they never attack Northumbria ever again."

He looked tempted for a moment before Heahmund returned to the tent, looking shocked to see King Ecgberht of all people in the tent with me. The king straightened, wiped his eyes, thanked me for the conversation, and left sharply.

Heahmund looked back to me. "I hope you were not trying to tempt the king of Northumbria into your heathen ways."

I blinked. "Is that what you fear? I have never tempted anyone onto my side, Heahmund. I have been tempted, but have never actually done the deed."

Heahmund's eyes flashed for a moment and he seated himself directly across from me. "Your soul may be saved, Augusta. I truly believe you can come back from this time in your life if you truly repent. Do you repent?"

Without really hesitating. "No." I said bluntly.

Now Heahmund's eyes flashed with what was definitely anger. "You are a stubborn creature, Augusta of Wessex. You are ignorant to the sins your heathens have committed against the world and against our Lord."

"I am not naive, bishop." I said in a monotone voice. "I am well aware of what the Northmen have done; I witnessed some of it. I'm also well aware how war works. There are good people and bad people on both sides in every war fought ever since the beginning of time. Don't mistake me for a little girl. Don't treat me the way Kenton treated me." Our gazes locked until Heahmund got up and left me for the day without bringing me any food.

My hair started growing back only for Heahmund to come in later, locking my body between his knees and holding my chin with his left hand in an ironclad grip. This time he was more steady with the blade and shaved it shorter, only making a handful of spots to bleed instead of the original dozen.

It was maybe the fifth day after this second shearing when King Aethelwulf appeared into the tent. I stared at him for a long moment as he stared at me, his eyes suddenly brimming with emotion that hadn't been there before he walked in.

"Oh, Augusta, I should've said no." He whispered and my brother was suddenly on his knees with my hands in his. "Heahmund told me he was...I didn't think this was-"

"Surely you were listening to my screaming?" I cut him off. "This isn't that big a camp. How come I had to hear about Aethelred's death from King Ecgberht, brother? Hm? Why was a fucking stranger the first one besides that sociopath to come see me?"

Aethelwulf looked to me with misery in his eyes and I glared back at him. "You gave him permission to do this, yes?" I asked, my voice suddenly as sharp as a blade.

"Augusta, please," Aethelwulf said instead of answering me. "I will tell Heahmund now that you're to be sent to a convent in Wessex. You can live your days in peace near home. Just repent and do whatever he says and I'll send you somewhere safe."

For a brief moment I wanted to scream yes. I wanted to leave this fucking tent and get a proper night's sleep on a real bed. I wanted to have more than one piece of bread per day. I wanted to live.

But then an image of laughter around a campfire filled my mind, strong arms wrapped around me, and I wanted to _really_ live.

"No." I snapped. "I much rather go back to the Vikings than go to a convent."

Aethelwulf's eyes went wide and he was suddenly glaring at me. "How can you still want to be with those people? They murdered my son! They murdered our father, for the love of God!"

"This war could have been over the moment I walked into this camp with Hvitserk and Ubbe!" I shouted right back and Aethelwulf looked momentarily stunned at me standing up for myself. "Aethelred's death is partially your fault for letting this war-"

I was cut off by Aethelwulf's hand but I remained in my sitting position. Aethelwulf was seething at me when I straightened back up.

"And what if I told you those Vikings had left?" Aethelwulf asked heatedly. "Hm? What if I told you that they had left you behind?"

A thorn of doubt stabbed at me in the back of my mind. But I tightened my jaw and shook my head. "They wouldn't. Not Ivar and Hvitserk and Ubbe. None of them would."

Aethelwulf closed his eyes for a moment and looked like he was trying and failing to remain calm. "You have more faith in those heathens then you do your own God."

"I think I believe in people more than _your_ god, brother." I said dryly. Aethelwulf opened his eyes and they brimmed with emotion. He got up and started to leave.

"Aethelwulf." I said suddenly. He stopped walking but didn't turn around. I glared at his back. "If your bishop kills me in here, take my body to York. I'd rather be buried beside those heathens than be with you and your family."

Aethelwulf left without saying another word to me.

* * *

"Wake up, Augusta." King Ecbert's voice sounded far away. "There's something you must do."

I groaned, batting a hand lazily towards the sound of Father's voice. When my hand actually hit what felt like a leg, my eyes snapped open and I launched myself back about a foot, seeing the stranger there.

The man with iron gray hair and face tattoos was not Saxon. His cold, single gray eye watched me curiously, as if he was waiting to see what I'd do. I inhaled sharply, recognizing the man from my dream all that time ago. Then Trygve's voice came into my head and I scrambled to kneel, covering my breasts as I did so. Was this Odin…

"Augusta." The man's voice was graveling and sounded echoey, like we were in a cave instead of a tent. He knelt until he was at my level and I started shaking as he grabbed my face gently with both very cold hands.

Images flooded my eyes. The moon phasing two full times. Long and winding underground tunnels. A dark haired girl in a wedding gown. The moment the man removed his hands from my face did the vision stop, and when I got my vision back in focus, he was gone.

Several days later, Heahmund was preaching at me again as thunder rolled. I looked away from Heahmund to the tent's canvas, vaguely remembering a story about Thor-

Heahmund's hand lashed out and whacked me on top of the head. "Pay attention, Augusta. The Lord-"

"Oh shut up about your God." I interrupted, a sudden idea popping into my head. I got another blow to the face but straightened up fast enough.

"Your God?" Heahmund echoed dangerously.

"Yes, _your_ God." I answered, feeling my heart begin to beat. "He was never really mine." The blow came expected and I couldn't stop the bubble of laughter from coming to my lips. Heahmund was looking at me like I had gone mad, perhaps he thought I had. Or maybe I actually had. "I have seen the All-Father, Odin One-Eye, in my dreams!" I screamed at Heahmund. "He came to see me in my dreams and your God never has! You know what that tells me, bishop? That tells me that the Christian god either isn't real, or is a fucking-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence because Heahmund had started beating the side of my face with the leather strap. I howled as he continued to swing, blow after blow landing on my head and neck. When Heahmund was done, he was panting.

"You are not hopeless, Augusta of Wessex." Heahmund said, almost sagging. "I can save your soul, if you only opened your heart and let the Lord in. Those pagans just...controlled you more than I previously thought."

He walked away and I kept my face pressed into the earth. My naked body was racked with sobs that sent waves of agony through me. I could feel fresh blood sliding down my face; something must've been broken there. The iron shackle on my wrist had stopped hurting a long time ago...it was just heavy now.

Heahmund always took at least a day to come back after getting angry at me. I had roughly a day.

With heavy breathing and pain shooting through my limbs, I dragged myself to the stake driven into the earth and keeping me in this tent. I had been trying to get the shackle off; that had been a mistake. The chain was connected to this stake and once the stake was out, I'd still be chained to it, but I'd be able to carry it out of here.

With my left hand fingers I started scratching at the hard packed earth right beside the stake. When my left hand got tired, I switched to my right, giving the tent's entrance a quick glance. If anyone came in here...I had no clothes and no blanket to try and cover it up.

I got about an inch into the ground before I heard people walking outside my tent. I immediately stopped and watched the shadows move outside the tent. Heahmund's men went training around this time of day. Given how angry I had made Heahmund, he wasn't coming back and I wouldn't be given food today. Even still, I waited until it was quieter before I began digging with both hands this time.

Thunder started rolling in more frequently and I sent up a quiet thank you to Thor, Odin, whoever, for the extra noise outside.

The earth was hard packed and dry, and my fingernails got caked with dirt the moment I started digging faster. The shackle on my wrist was jingling against the chain but no matter what I did or how I digged, I couldn't get it to stop.

The sky outside began to darken and the silhouettes of campfires began to show up. As the rain began pouring down, I started digging even faster, using the voices and rainfall outside to hide the jingling of this damn chain. Every few swipes would send fresh pain up my fingers as my nails tore, but I ignored the fresh wounds and blood and dirt that was clotting on my fingertips.

I had no idea how much longer I'd have to dig, but the sudden sound of footsteps outside made me stop and collapse, letting my limp body try and shield the half dug up stake holding me down. I pressed my face into the loose dirt as someone entered.

Footsteps came up to me and halted; the stake was only half hidden. Anyone with eyes would see it. I tensed my aching body, waiting for the blows that were soon to come.

A sudden softness covered my naked body, also covering up the stake. The stranger knelt down and I felt someone's hand gently smooth down my prickly and short hair. They knelt down even lower and I felt the stranger gently kiss my head.

"I forgive you, Augusta. I hope the Northmen treat you better than we did."

Tears squeezed their way out of my eyes as he got up and left. I opened my eyes and looked up just in time to see Aethelwulf leave the tent. I sat up, wrapping the blanket around me slightly and using it to shield the stake from the tent's entrance. And then I started digging again.

It was getting lighter again when I first felt the stake wiggle. I stopped digging and wrapped my bleeding hands around the chain and tugged hard just to feel the release of the stake giving way. I smiled broadly as I took the stake in my hand. I wrapped the blanket around me and stood up, wincing at the pain.

"They've gone!" A sudden voice from outside started screaming. I slowly shuffled to the entrance. "The Vikings have left! York is safe!"

"No," I breathed. They wouldn't leave without me, I told myself. Not Ubbe and Hvitserk and Sigurd and Ivar...The lie of me being just a translator rang in my head as the camp was suddenly alive. I shook my head almost violently. Ivar of all people wouldn't leave me behind. The noise outside grew and some people bumped against the canvas. I took a step back, holding the stake like a weapon and holding the excess chain with my shackled hand to reduce tripping and noise.

I waited for what felt like forever before the camp got quiet again. When the rain started to slow down to a drizzle, I carefully stepped out of the tent that had been my prison.

The dawn was wet with rain and I couldn't stop the smile on my face, even though I was shaking. The camp was deserted; everyone had gone to York. Using my shackled hand, I pulled the blanket over my head and tightened it around my body, still holding the stake like a knife.

My bare feet moved across the muddy ground as fast as I could. I kept to the shadows, trying to make it to the entrance of camp. If I could get back to York, try and figure out what had happened, maybe I could find where the Vikings went.

I had just made it to the entrance when, "Augusta?" Judith's voice rang in my head like a strike on an anvil. I froze and turned slowly, Judith standing just in the middle of the dirt path, tears falling from her eyes as the rain started to soak her. "You're going back to them?"

I stared at her and shrugged. Judith let out a sob. "They killed Aethelred." She said. "My son, my oldest son is dead. His wound got infected. The priest said it was a blood infection of some kind…"

"Judith, I'm so sorry." I started.

"Don't you tell me that you're sorry!" Judith screamed. My eyes darted around camp to make sure no one came after us. "And then go back to them! My boy died fighting them, fighting _you_! Your nephew-" Judith cut off with a sob and doubled over, straightening again a few moments later. "Aethelred was only twenty years old, Augusta. He was going to get married...he had a whole life spread out in front of him before your Vikings wiped that all away."

Fresh tears fell down Judith's face and she glared at me with nothing short of hatred. "I've lost almost everything in this war, Augusta. My father, my love, my oldest son, my mother…" She drifted off and shook her head with another sob. "Go back to them, if that's what you really want. But if you leave this camp, never set foot in Wessex ever again."

She held her head high and turned on her heel to leave, tears running down her face and rain beginning to beat down on both of us. I turned and watched her leave, knowing I had just lost my oldest ally.

I left the camp.


	29. 29: Rot

The closer I got to York, the louder the screaming got and the lighter the rain came down. The Vikings hadn't left York after all, I thought. When I could see the walls, I left the road and into the woods. I leaned heavily on a tree just behind the tree line. I could hear the screams of battle better from right here.

A soldier wearing armor from Wessex ran right out of the open gates and I froze as he was running away from the battle and right towards me.

"Fuck." I muttered and flinched back as he crashed into the undergrowth and almost into me. The soldier tripped and toppled over, right in front of me. I stared at him in shock; was it safe to run into the city now?

"You," His voice came low and groggy. I looked back at him just in time for him to stand up and begin to unsheathe his sword. "Fucking bastard."

Instinct coursed through me as he dove towards me with his sword. I leapt out of the way, dropping the blanket as I did so. He immediately froze at the sight of my naked body, giving me enough time to launch forward with the stake pointing at his chest.

The stake drove too easily into his body, and his dark red blood spilled over my already bloody hands. I ripped the stake back out and it fell to the ground. The soldier dropped to his knees and dropped the sword, trying to hold his wound together. I picked up his sword and tried not to think about the feel of his blood on my hands.

By the time the soldier died, more Saxons were running out of the city. I heard the call for retreat and cries of victory in the Viking tongue I had missed so much. When the coast was clear, I wrapped myself in my blanket again and left the safety of the woods, the stake dragging behind me and the bloody sword in one hand.

The gates had closed the moment the Saxons left. A Viking on the wall pointed an arrow at me as I approached, but then I heard the very clear voice scream, "Runa!"

Berglijot nearly threw herself off the wall as I entered York a beaten and bloody mess. She embraced me in her arms but let go the moment I howled in pain.

"What hurts, Runa?" She asked softly and very distinctly as the gates closed again.

"Everything." I muttered.

"Can you continue walking?" She asked.

"I will." I said. Berglijot took my side, not touching me but there in case I needed her. Berglijot and I walked together slowly, my blanket barely cooperating anymore and the sword still dangling from my hand. I couldn't seem to unclench my hand.

The Vikings in the street, still celebrating their victory, hushed and parted to let me pass. My limbs were shaking, my face was covered in blood and bruises, the bloody sword was locked tight in my grip and the stake I was still chained to was dragging behind me and making a clanging sound against the cobblestones.

Berglijot and I got to the cathedral and the inside was crowded with Vikings and captive Saxons chained to the ground. I looked among their faces, and froze when I saw Heahmund. The bishop was chained to a pillar, by his wrist just like the chain on my wrist.

My hand clenched even tighter around the sword. I hadn't been thinking about the soldier in the woods when I ran him down with the stake. Heahmund looked up right at me and his eyes flashed with surprise.

I took a step forward.

"Runa!"

The sword was dropped as Ubbe crashed into me. I let out a howl of pain before embracing him back. Tears burned and fell down my face and Ubbe buried his face into my neck.

"I'm so sorry," Ubbe was saying into my skin. "I'm so fucking sorry, Augusta."

I buried my face into Ubbe's chest and I held onto him tighter. "I've missed you too, Ubbe. But right now you just may kill me."

Ubbe let go and he seemed to finally take in just how ragged I was. Ubbe's face darkened. "Who did this?"

I didn't hesitate to point a finger directly at Heahmund. Ubbe followed my finger but before he could register, I heard my name being screamed again.

Sigurd ran to me, his mismatched eyes bright and shining. He reacted to my appearance faster than Ubbe and he halted right in front of me. "What happened?"

"I will tell you all everything but I need a healer." I said, waving a hand at Heahmund. Sigurd nodded and he and Berglijot flanked me towards the back corner where the healers were supposed to be. Berglijot picked up my sword before we left.

Hillevi the healer had no idea where to start with me. She made me drop the blanket, which Sigurd immediately turned away. Hillevi decided my back was the worst and got to work putting a soothing solvent on the torn and inflamed skin.

"Get her food, Snake-in-the-Eye." Hillevi ordered him. Sigurd left in a hurry but Berglijot stayed behind and helped Hillevi as much as she possibly could. Hillevi had just finished laying bandages on my back before moving to my injured feet.

My feet were ripped up from walking barefoot on rocks and dirt and cobblestones. After that Hillevi started on my torn and bloody fingers and that was when Sigurd returned with arms full of food and skins of water.

Berglijot helped me drink water and would put food in my mouth as Hillevi worked on my fingers. Two of my nails were so badly damaged, she just ripped them off and bandaged them up. I let out a cry of pain as the fingernails were torn off, causing Hillevi to snap, "Hush! Would you rather lose them to infection?"

Two stitches through my left eyebrow later and Hillevi told me to leave so that she could move on to others who needed help. I wrapped myself back in the blanket from Aethelwulf and left the corner, trying to find Sigurd or Ubbe or any of the sons of Ragnar. Where were they?

A blond slave I recognized was suddenly at my side. "Runa Ecbertsdottir." She said and bent her knees slightly. I stared at her.

"That's a new name." I said. "Who are you?"

"I am Freydis." She said in a high pitched and lofty voice. "You need clothes."

"That is the last thing I need right now." I muttered. "Do you have any idea where Ivar is?"

Freydis blinked and nodded before turning away. I followed after her with Berglijot at my side, limping very heavily on my bandaged feet. Freydis led the way into a private room off the main part of the cathedral.

"Leave!" Ivar's voice shouted out the moment Freydis opened the door. She looked to me and sidestepped and I rushed past her and into the room.

Hvitserk stopped pacing. Harald Finehair was sitting back in a chair with his feet propped up on the table. Sigurd looked furious and Ubbe looked tired, his knuckles bloody. Ivar had been limping in front of the table but he completely froze when I walked in. Freydis closed the door behind me.

Harald looked to Ubbe. "Now we know why you tried to kill the bishop."

Ivar was already limping to me. He wrapped me in his arms and I wrapped one arm around him and the other around his neck. Ivar didn't say anything, just pressed his face into the uninjured side of mine and I felt actual wetness there.

Ivar the Boneless was crying.

"I heard the healer say several lashes," Sigurd was explaining. "Fingernails were cracked. Half starved-"

Berglijot stepped forward, and I heard her voice shaking as she recounted the amount of injuries she and Hillevi had just dealt with.

"Why?" Hvitserk asked after she was finished.

There was a thick silence as Ivar and I separated. Ivar's eyes were still glistening and I wiped away his eyes with the corner of the blanket. Ivar smiled at the touch and I looked around him to the other men.

"Bishop Heahmund believed he could beat Christianity back into me." I said darkly. "He beat me, shaved my head, starved me; I went days, maybe weeks without seeing anyone besides him. How long have I been gone? Because I honestly could not tell days apart in that fucking tent."

They all stared at me. King Harald cleared his throat. "You were taken almost two months ago, Runa Ecbertsdottir."

Hvitserk suddenly started stalking away. "Where are you going?" Sigurd asked sharply.

"I'm going to rip that bishop limb from limb." Hvitserk snarled. I half expected Ivar to follow him, but instead Ivar wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me closer to him. I leaned against his chest and breathed him in.

"Don't kill the bishop!" Sigurd shouted, running after his older brother. Ubbe blinked before going after them, throwing Ivar a curious glance as he went.

Harald approached Ivar and me with what could've been caution in his face. Looking at me he said, "I will find you some thralls to help you recover. I'm sure you want to be fed and dressed soon." To Ivar he said, "I will be taking my boats and men back home tomorrow at dawn. Judging by recent events, you will not have a problem with that." Even though it looked like he was asking permission, there was a hint of something else in his tone that made me feel even more on edge than I had been. But Ivar nodded and Harald left. As I started leaving the room with Ivar, Berglijot was suddenly stopped by Ivar.

"Thank you, Berglijot." Ivar said in a clipped voice. The tall woman blinked but nodded anyway, dismissing herself and leaving.

Ivar refused to leave my side for a second. The thralls that Harald sent were familiar-the redhead and the blond named Freydis. The two women were sent away by Ivar almost immediately to go prepare a bath first and they rushed off at the sound of his voice. Ivar had barely spoken, only in clipped and angry sounding words. But he clung to me as we made it back upstairs to our shared room before...before…

I stared at the room like it was from a dream I had had a long time ago. It didn't feel real; nothing had so far. I looked to Ivar to where he was staring at me.

"I can't," I said right as my voice got thick with emotion.

Ivar blinked. "You can't what?" His voice still sounded aggressive.

I blinked, feeling pressure building behind my eyes. "This doesn't feel real. None of this does. It feels like if I relax, if I let myself think that I'm safe in here, if I lay down to sleep on that bed, I will wake up on a dirt floor still chained to-" My voice finally broke and suddenly there was no stopping the sobs.

Ivar pulled me into his chest again and he held me tight. I leaned into him, not caring about how loud my sobs got, or how much I was leaning against him. Ivar held onto me and I soon felt his own body shaking along with me.

"Lay down," Ivar ordered when the two thralls knocked, having brought up the supplies for a bath. I did as he said and wrapped the blanket from Aethelwulf even tighter around me. I could hear Ivar telling the thralls to leave almost immediately after they left and once they were gone he limped back to me. "Come on. Get up."

I followed the simple orders and climbed into the tub when Ivar said to. He pulled a chair next to it and sat himself down. "Just let yourself relax, Augusta. I am here and no one else is coming in here unless you want them here."

There was a very long moment of silence until I looked to Ivar. "What happened? When Ubbe and Hvitserk came back without me?"

He didn't answer right away, a heavy frown creating a shadow on his face. "I almost killed them. For a moment, I really wanted to." He paused. "We had a raid planned, an attack directly on the Saxon camp. Hvitserk said he remembered the tent you were in; he and Ubbe were very specific with where you were. But before we could launch this attack, the Saxons laid siege to York, and we were trapped inside."

"The Mercians came at some point." I said dully.

Ivar nodded. "They did, but they did not break our siege. We could hear the sounds of battle from the walls. They are still out there, I think."

"So what now?" I asked after more silence.

"King Harald is going back home with his men tomorrow." Ivar replied. "I have been speaking with him, and he has promised to help us overthrow Lagertha the Usurper. He also still wants to rule Kattegat. And we have not agreed on that yet."

"And East Anglia?"

Ivar shook his head. "It is Sigurd's. I refuse to take that kingdom, Augusta. You said, whoever takes it will adopt Saxon ways and take a Saxon wife. I would rather kill Saxons than rule them. The only Saxon wife I mean to take is you."

I stared at him. Ivar wasn't making eye contact, instead he was looking to his feet. "If I am honest, Augusta, I already think of you as a wife. No one else has ever been this close with me before. You make me laugh and when I am with you, I feel…" He frowned, looking for the right word. "You're my home."

I shifted myself until I was directly facing Ivar. He finally looked at me, his ice blue eyes narrowed and cautious. I extended my hand and grabbed onto his. Ivar's fingers closed tightly around mine and I squeezed his hand back, trying to get all of my feelings into that simple handhold. "I love you too, Ivar." I said quietly.

A smile slowly crept across Ivar's face and stayed there as I finished getting cleaned. Once I was dressed and had recomposed myself, Ivar and I left the sanctuary of our room and went back downstairs to the main hall of the cathedral.

Heahmund was still chained to that pillar, his face now swollen so much that one of his eyes was shut. His mouth was bleeding and his nose looked broken. I blinked but felt a grim sort of pleasure from seeing him hurt.

Ivar's eyes narrowed at Heahmund's form. "That's the bishop." He wasn't asking.

"Yes." I said curtly. Ivar's eyes flashed dangerously and he started limping fast to a couple of men sitting nearby. I didn't hear what he said, but the men got up and dragged Heahmund to his feet and out of the cathedral. When Ivar returned to me, I asked, "Where're they taking him?"

"Chaining him behind the cathedral." Ivar said. "I wanted him out of sight."

"That makes two of us." I said darkly. Ivar and I went back inside the private room where Sigurd was staring hard at a scroll.

"Augusta," Sigurd said immediately upon seeing me. "I need your help." He handed me the scrolls and I saw that it was a bill of sale.

"With what?" I asked as Ivar limped around me and sat down at the table.

"I am trying to read Saxon." Sigurd said simply. "While you were gone, I announced that I would take East Anglia. Ubbe doesn't want it, Ivar wouldn't want it even if you ever came back, and Hvitserk has never been one for leading. So I'm taking it."

I gaped at him for a moment and sat down across from him. "Very practical." I muttered. I helped Sigurd with Saxon up until Ubbe and Hvitserk arrived. Hvitserk put a plate full of food right in front of me.

"Eat." Hvitserk said. Like Ubbe, his knuckles were bandaged. A new scar was on his forehead, a small one, but one that had some time to age. I realized with a shudder that he must've got that scar the night he and Ubbe had been chased from the Saxon camp.

I pointed to it. "Did that come from Heahmund? That night?"

Hvitserk stared at me with what looked like guilt in his eyes. "Yes." He said curtly.

"Neither of you got hurt, did you?" I asked, glancing between him and Ubbe.

There was a sudden bang as Ivar's fist slammed against the table. Ubbe looked over to his younger brother and glared at him. "No, Runa; Hvitserk and I made it out fine." Ubbe said without breaking eye contact with Ivar.

There was an extended silence with Ubbe and Ivar glaring at each other, Hvitserk looking guilty and angry, and Sigurd shoving his face into his papers. I looked between all of them and brought my own hands onto the table.

"Okay." I said loudly, bringing the attention back to me. "I'm only saying this once. I am not angry with either of you for what happened. None of us knew what would happen when we went there, and it's not your fault Heahmund did…" I drifted off and just gestured to myself. "This."

Ubbe looked from Ivar to me. "Thank you for that. Now eat." He reached out and pushed the plate of greens and bread closer to me. Ivar was still glaring furiously at Ubbe. The tension was thick in the air and I felt awkward trying to eat with everyone else glaring daggers at each other.

Just because I didn't blame Ubbe and Hvitserk, didn't mean that Ivar didn't.

* * *

Late in the afternoon the very next day, a guard from the gates ran into the cathedral breathlessly. "The Northumbrian king wants an audience. He is at the gates right now."

When King Ecgberht entered the cathedral thirty minutes later, he looked very nervous. The thralls and Vikings inside the cathedral narrowed their eyes at the little king and his handful of guards. I stood beside Ubbe as they approached and my eyes narrowed at the sight of King Ecgberht with Princess Blaeja right behind him.

The princess was wearing a pretty gown with a pale pink shawl covering her shoulders and her head. Her bright brown eyes were darting around, looking like she was trying to not look as scared as she actually was.

King Ecgberht quickly caught sight of me and he dipped his head in greeting. "Augusta of Wessex, you look-" He tried to find the right word. "Better."

I still looked like a wreck, I knew. My face had dark bruises, my fingers were bandaged and I walked with a limp. But I nodded back at the young king.

"Thank you, your grace." I replied. "I feel better, slightly. These are the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, and I speak for them when I ask why you've come to visit."

King Ecgberht gave all of the sons nods before looking back at me. "One month ago, you told me that when you got back to the Northmen, you would try and bargain for peace. I want this war over, Augusta. I'm here to negotiate."

I nodded in agreement. "Negotiate what exactly?"

King Ecgberht looked to the guard carrying a chest and nodded. The guard stepped forward and dumped the contents onto the floor. I heard Hvitserk and Ivar both curse when they saw the amount of money that spilled out.

"I will pay the Vikings five hundred pounds of gold and silver." King Ecgberht said, raising his voice over the mutterings through the hall. "The rest of it is in a wagon right outside the walls. I also completely support the Viking claim on the land of East Anglia, and I will continue to support it after the Heathen Army goes back home."

I translated quickly to the sons and they were all leaning forward in great interest. Ivar was looking at King Ecgberht with bright eyes and Sigurd looked like he didn't know what to think.

King Ecgberht cleared his throat and glanced at his older sister. "To solidify this new alliance, I offer my older sister, Princess Blaeja of Northumbria, to marry the new king of East Anglia."

Holy fuck. I stared at Princess Blaeja as she took a step forward to stand right beside her king brother. Ubbe looked at me. "What'd he say?" Ubbe asked.

I ignored him and looked to Sigurd. "You're taking control of East Anglia, yes?" I asked him. Sigurd looked alarmed and nodded. "He's offering his sister to marry the king of East Anglia, to solidify this alliance."

They all stared at me except for Sigurd who was looking at Blaeja. She was looking at all of them, and I realized that she had no idea which was supposed to be her husband. I looked back to Sigurd.

"Do you want me to accept?" I asked.

"We can't accept this deal without her, right?" Sigurd asked in response. I nodded gravely. "Then accept it. What do I do after that?"

I stepped away from Ubbe and linked my arm with Sigurd, who walked with me to King Ecgberht and Blaeja. I looked to King Ecgberht. "This is Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye Ragnarsson. He is the one who will be king of East Anglia. He doesn't speak much Saxon right now, but he has been learning."

Sigurd and Blaeja stared at each other with unreadable faces and Sigurd cleared his throat. "My name is Sig-ert."

Sigurd's accent made his words in Saxon nearly impossible to understand. King Ecgberht and Blaeja both stared at him, unsure what to do next. I removed my arm from Sigurd as Blaeja extended a hand towards him.

"Kiss her hand." I ordered from between my teeth. Sigurd turned pink but did as I said. Blaeja blinked again and folded her hands in front of her, looking straight ahead and past Sigurd.

When King Ecgberht left, the money paid and the promises of alliance written in my own hand, Princess Blaeja was left with us. I yanked Sigurd aside almost right after the young king left. "She needs private quarters and at least two servants to help her. Preferably some who can at least understand Saxon. She is your fiance now so you take care of it because she'll like you better if you do. Go do that _now_."

Sigurd rushed off without a word to Blaeja and she watched him go, suddenly looking worried. I approached her slowly. "Princess Blaeja, King Ecgberht left you with your things, yes?"

She nodded without really looking at me. "Where did...he go?" It seemed like she couldn't remember his name already.

"He went off to settle a room and servants for you." I replied. "All of the Ragnarssons have been living in the cathedral this whole time, so I'm sure you will be too."

"A room to myself?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, a room to yourself." I said, feeling a twinge of pity. At least when I been married off to Kenton, I had been home in Winchester. Blaeja was surrounded by strangers with only one person able to understand her.

Hvitserk crept past us, looking like he was trying not to laugh. Sigurd came out from a corridor and gestured for me to follow him. I led Blaeja after Sigurd and he had found a decent sized room with a single bed in it. Religious pictures were hung on the wall and Blaeja removed her shell pink shawl from her head.

It was twenty minutes later when Hvitserk returned to the cathedral with two women behind him. "I'm saving your ass, Sigurd." He said happily. "These are only two of the Saxon camp followers who didn't want to sleep with Saxon soldiers. They know Saxon and certain phrases in Viking. Meet Lynette and Mariam."

The two women curtsied at me and Sigurd. Mariam was in her mid twenties with ashy blond hair and dark brown eyes. Lynette was in her early twenties and her blond hair was darker with ice blue eyes. They looked like Vikings in a way. I walked the two women to Blaeja and introduced them to her and the moment she heard more than one person speaking Saxon, she looked a bit more relieved. I left them to get acquainted and rejoined Hvitserk and Sigurd.

"How is it you know almost every woman in this city?" I asked Hvitserk.

"You don't want to know the answer." Hvitserk said. I shook at my head at the implication and rubbed a hand over my scalp, the prickly hair there still feeling foreign.

Ivar was nowhere to be found after that. A Viking from the hall told me he had dragged himself out towards the back of the cathedral.

Heahmund.

I slowly approached the alley behind the cathedral. Heahmund was on his knees, his hands chained to either side of him and an iron collar around his neck chaining him in a way to keep him from laying down. There was no covering over his head, allowing the elements to beat down on him. Already the top of his head was burned from the sun. Ivar was sitting in front of him, speaking quietly to him. I couldn't hear what was being said, but the look on his face did the talking for me.

I left the corner and entered the alley, a foreign feeling clawing at my belly. I wanted to see Heahmund hurting; for some reason seeing him in pain would make the pain I was feeling in my back and thighs and feet and hands matter.

Ivar saw me approach and a smile stretched across his face. "You are lucky, bishop; in a way. You see, my companion wants you dead." Ivar nodded to me and Heahmund struggled to turn around. I let him crane his neck around until he froze abruptly, finally seeing me. Ivar leaned towards Heahmund. "But I want you alive. Not because of any fondness for you, because I want you to suffer. I want you to hurt, the same way you made my companion hurt. But then I want to take it further. I want you to wish you were dead, I want you to pray to your Christian god and beg to die. And then, I want to let you live longer, chained to the floor like how you are right now, and let you _rot_."


	30. 30: Colder Weather

Both armies from Northumbria and Wessex were gone. The Viking army set back out, heading back south to East Anglia. Ipswich was where the family in charge lived, but there were other important cities in East Anglia. It was one thing to overthrow a powerful family, it was another to kick them out of their home.

We passed through the former Saxon camp; they hadn't bothered cleaning up that much. I removed the hood from my head and let my sheared head be exposed to the damp air. Without thinking much, I walked to the exact spot my tent had been. I found the hole the stake had been in, and even now, I could see the claw marks I had left surrounding the hole.

Ubbe was the one who approached me cautiously. "Runa?" Ubbe asked.

I kicked the hole with my toe. "You can still see where I dug it up." I said, my voice dripping with dark humor. "Funny, right Ubbe?" My voice broke and fat teardrops fell from my eyes. Ubbe was at my shoulder in an instant and he pressed my bruised face into his chest.

"You're safe now," Ubbe said. When I looked up at him, he was staring at the hole too. "Hold on."

Ubbe knelt down and used his hands to pile dirt beside the hole. "Get down here and help me." He said. I blinked but did as he said and soon we had two big piles of dirt between us. Ubbe pointed at the torn looking hole. "Fill it. You're not in that tent anymore and you'll never be there again. Fill it and get rid of it."

I smiled tearfully at him for what he was trying to do. I pushed the dirt into the hole and claw marks, until there was little indication that it had been there in the first place. When the spot was gone but for a few marks of pushed around earth, I looked to Ubbe and held his face in my hand.

"Thank you, Ubbe." I said, meaning it. Ubbe grasped my hand and squeezed it before running a hand on my bruised and cut scalp.

Hvitserk walked up, looking curious and worried looking. I explained the spot and what it had been and Ubbe started to walk away. I went after him, leaving Hvitserk there. He didn't follow for a while and when I turned around to keep him with us, I saw Hvitserk stomp furiously at the covered up hole.

As we moved south again, I got myself a horse and started riding every day near the front of the army, usually with one of the Ragnarssons. I helped Sigurd practice his Saxon; he was much better at reading it than speaking it. Mainly I was trying to help him with the words he'd have to say when he got married.

Blaeja had been given a wheelhouse to ride in on the journey to East Anglia. Her handmaids-the two Northumbrian women Lynette and Mariam-had been paid heavily by Sigurd and promised an easy life working for Blaeja if they wanted. The two women had immediately agreed and I convinced them to teach Blaeja a bit about Viking customs that they had picked up, so that she could better understand her fiance.

Sigurd was trying to be polite, but I could see the difficulty. He was still having a hard time understanding what people said, and I could see Blaeja looking more concerned about this match. It wasn't until Sigurd started writing Saxon sentences down and showing them to Blaeja that they started to seem more comfortable with each other.

I spent more time with Berglijot. Her accent was either getting easier to understand or she was making an effort to be understood, because I could understand more than half the things she said now.

Berglijot was good with her hands. She knew how to apply soothing solvent to my back and feet, always stopping what she was doing to help. The days where my back was so inflamed and leaking blood were the days Berglijot came to my side to help bandage it. My back wasn't infected, but the skin was too spread and sensitive that stitches wouldn't even work. So Berglijot just applied a soothing solvent to my back to try and reduce redness. I was told it wasn't going down yet.

Heahmund was kept chained in a wagon, and he was only fed a slice of bread and cup of water once a day. I kept away from him, not wanting to see him. It didn't matter that much anyway; I kept seeing him in my nightmares anyway.

Nearly every night was filled with bloody nightmares where I was chained to the ground and Heahmund stood over me, the bloody metal whip clenched in his fists. I'd wake up screaming and sweating with Ivar trying to roughly shake me awake.

The nights I woke up screaming and terrified of shadows, Ivar was right beside me, pulling me into his chest and pressing my face into his chest. "I'm here, Augusta." Ivar muttered to me. "You're safe, I'm here and no one is going to hurt you."

"I hate being scared, Ivar." I said quietly. Ivar rested his chin on top of my head and sighed.

"I know you do." He said just as quietly. "But you know what? It doesn't matter if you're scared or not, because I'm going to protect you. You're safe as long as you're with me."

I believed him, something told me that Ivar would set the Saxon countryside on fire if something like what I been through happened again. The idea was comforting, the the idea of getting captured again definitely wasn't.

The army left Northumbria and entered East Anglia, and Sigurd started taking more of an active role in leading the army. "These are the people I'm going to be ruling." Sigurd said simply after stopping a patrol from raiding a small village. "I'm not going to give them more reason to hate Vikings."

Thetford was where we were heading. The small city would act as capital, the castle there was decent sized and Thetford itself was a central location in East Anglia. Blaeja's eyes had brightened when she heard the city's name be mentioned, and I wondered if she had been there before.

It took another month to reach Thetford, and the dawn was cold as the Vikings went ahead to take the city. I stood beside Princess Blaeja and her handmaids. Blaeja was wearing her pink shawl again and she kept glancing at me nervously.

"What happens when the city is taken?" Blaeja asked, her breath coming out in small puffs. I stared at the fog in the air for a moment before sighing heavily.

"Once Thetford is taken, I assume they'll have to fight Lord Edmund somehow." I replied. "Once that battle is won, this entire war should be over. And then after that, your wedding I imagine."

Blaeja blinked and looked nervous. "What was your wedding like?" She asked suddenly.

"Um," I struggled for a moment. "Rushed, when I think about it. Kenton and I knew each other for maybe two weeks before we got married."

"What was the wedding night like?" Blaeja asked in a quieter voice.

I swallowed. "Awkward. Uncomfortable. It lasted a few minutes and then it was over."

Blaeja swallowed too and I felt a stab of pity for her. The sound of a warhorn sounded and I started forward towards the city, Blaeja and her handmaids scrambling after me. When we entered the gates of Thetford, the city was the least ransacked of any city we had already been to.

The castle of Thetford was where we found the Ragnarssons. The lord who had held it had already surrendered, and I walked in on the lord and clusters of soldiers kneeling in front of Sigurd and swearing vows to him. When Sigurd finally joined me and Blaeja, he looked just slightly overwhelmed.

"It was a mistake teaching you Saxon." I said in Saxon. "I'm out of a job."

Sigurd was able to understand me, judging by his huff of amusement. He looked to Blaeja, sort of cautiously, and extended his arm to her. Blaeja blinked before taking it, letting Sigurd stiffly lead her into the castle. Her handmaids followed behind a few feet behind. I pulled my hood further down my face and let out another huff of breath, releasing a puff of fog.

The weather was getting colder. Farther in the kingdoms, farmers were harvesting and preparing for the winter. I swallowed at the idea of Christmas here in Thetford surrounded by pagans. The Vikings would not be sailing anywhere in the winter.

The thought of my birthday also came to mind. I was born on the twenty-seventh of December, just after Christmas. Almost exactly a year ago, I was saying goodbye to Ivar and getting ready to marry someone-Kenton hadn't been chosen by King Ecbert yet.

Oh, how life had changed in the span of less than a year.

I found Ivar about an hour later, leading about five Vikings and Heahmund into the castle. I curled my lip after him, knowing that Ivar was taking Heahmund to the dungeons but wanting him dead already.

Ivar had been right about me wanting Heahmund dead immediately, but Ivar thought it was more fun to keep him alive, torture him a bit.

That night the Vikings celebrated their victory of East Anglia. Sigurd and Blaeja had already met with the former lord and they both came into the dining hall with Blaeja looked concerned and Sigurd looking thoughtful.

"And?" Ivar asked when they both sat down.

"Odds are, there won't be any battle until spring." Sigurd said. He looked to me. "He said that battles during winter are rare and hard."

"This is the time of year farmers are harvesting." I agreed. "Saxon armies are very few trained soldiers and a lot of farmers and free lance warriors looking for a bit of glory. The farmers will all go home to take care of their land until the weather is warm."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to attack now then?" Ivar asked.

I gave Sigurd a sharp look before turning back to Ivar. "Not unless Sigurd wants to get killed off within his first few years as king. There are some Saxon rules that are unspoken, and breaking those rules will make people hate you."

"What does it matter if the people hate you?" Hvitserk asked, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet on the table. Blaeja looked alarmed at him. "You're their king at the end of the day."

"There are more farmers than warriors." Sigurd answered for me. He hesitated before continuing, "Look what happened to Aslaug."

Ivar shot Sigurd a warning look and Ubbe aggressively tossed a chicken bone to his plate where it clattered. Sigurd continued, looking right at Ivar. "Our mother was a queen but she was not loved by the people of Kattegat. Everyone in Kattegat sort of accepted Lagertha as ruler. If Aslaug had been more well loved, the people would've been angrier at her murder."

They all stared at each other and finally Ivar nodded curtly, seemingly agreeing with Sigurd. Blaeja wasn't able to understand the words but she understood that her fiance had just been on dangerous ground.

"That is why, I would like the smallfolk to not hate me, brother." Sigurd finished, tearing his eyes from Ivar to Hvitserk. "I don't want to end up like Mother."

* * *

By the time the first snows arrived in Thetford, I was sure that all of England probably knew the Vikings were settling. Some of the Vikings who wanted to stay left the city of Thetford with a promise of returning in spring. They started settling and building homes and farms a few miles outside of the city walls. Sigurd visited a few as the weather got colder.

As November faded into December, Blaeja and the other Saxons started thinking about Christmas nervously. How were they supposed to celebrate Christmas if their king was a pagan. When Sigurd came to me asking about Christmas traditions, I turned him to Princess Blaeja and thought it'd be better if they talked about Christmas together.

One night as the snows came down hard, Ivar and I sat in bed and he told me about Yule and the Great Hunt, how Odin would ride through the skies with the residents of Valhalla (along with ghosts and maybe elves and dwarfs) and they'd hunt through the skies.

I suddenly remembered the visions in the tent and sat up straight. "Ivar, I think I may have met Odin."

Ivar listened with undivided attention as I recounted dreaming about King Ecbert's voice and it fading into Odin suddenly standing over me in my chain. "He didn't seem angry or anything like that." I said after telling him about the visions. "He seemed curious, almost like he was waiting to see what I was going to do."

Ivar stared at me for a bit longer before his eyes darted downwards. "I think your back is bleeding again."

"Again?" I echoed. Ivar hummed and pushed me down so that I was laying on my belly. His fingers moved fast and he unbuttoned the back of my dress to reveal my back to him.

Ivar hissed quietly and I felt his fingers very gently brush against a sensitive part of the scarring, right on my right shoulder. He reached that same hand towards my line of sight and I saw the bright red blood there.

"Again." He confirmed. I groaned and buried my face into a pillow.

"Why can't it just be healed?" I asked with my face pressed into the pillow. I heard Ivar snort with amusement and his weight shifted away and coming back.

Ivar's fingers came back cold and wet and he was applying the solvent to the bleeding spot. "Maybe it is a reminder." He replied. "A reminder of what happened, and what still needs to be done."

"If you just killed Heahmund it would be over and done with." I told him, removing my face from the pillow. Ivar leaned down and made eye contact with me.

"He did this to you, Augusta." Ivar said in a low voice. "He broke you in the name of Christianity, so I will break him in the name of Odin."

"So you're going to completely dismantle Christianity?" I asked incredulously. "I hate to tell you, Ivar, but it's a very old religion and very widespread. Secondly, I am not broken."

I could see why he thought that. I was physically always hurting. Walking was painful after a short time, my back was always screaming and bled easily, my fingernails had finally begun to grow back but still ached sometimes. My hair was still prickly and very short, maybe half an inch away from my skull, and if it had grown at all I hadn't noticed.

Ivar's free hand gently ran down my scalp and I closed my eyes as he rubbed the short hair there. His thumb rubbed circles on the bruised part of my head, the purple skin showing through the dark, bristling hair.

"You are strong, Augusta." Ivar said quietly. "I know this, and Odin surely knows it. Otherwise he would not have appeared to you. I do not mean broken as in physically broken-I just meant that you seem more tired, and laugh less than you used to."

I opened my eyes a little and looked at him. "Sorry I'm not in a cheerful mood that much, Ivar."

He snorted and rubbed his hand down my prickly scalp. His fingers finished applying the solvent and Ivar shifted himself to lay down right beside me. He turned his head and made eye contact with me.

"You are not sad." He said. "You be angry as long as you want. The bishop is going to suffer as long as you are. That is my plan. Until your hands are fine, your bruises are completely gone, and your scars have healed completely, the bishop will suffer."

"And after everything is healed?" I asked. Ivar's hand reached out and his thumb gently went over the eyebrow with a new scar running through it.

"I haven't decided yet." Ivar replied. He had a smirk on his face and his eyes were looking from my eyes to my lips and then to my jawline. "The gods have a plan for you and I, Augusta."

"What do you think that plan is?" I asked, my voice hushing.

Ivar scooted himself closer, wrapping his arm around so that my head rested on his bicep. "I think Lofn had a hand in our fates when we were born. Maybe Frigg and Odin have a wager. Who knows with the gods?"

"I haven't heard of Lofn before." I said.

"She is a goddess of love; the arranger of marriages." Ivar said and then smirked. "She has permission from Odin and Frigg to make matches between any man or woman in the world, no matter how far the two are from each other or whether they had their own lives and loves."

"Well with that description I would think she definitely had a hand in us finding each other." I said dryly. Ivar let out a snort of amusement and I felt his hand petting the back of my head. I laughed slightly. "You really like the hair."

"It feels nice." Ivar said with his breathy laugh. His other hand reached around and ran down the length of my scalp. I laughed at him and Ivar was fully smiling now. "I've missed your laugh."

My face heated up with a blush and I scooted myself closer to kiss his forehead. "You're secretly a very gentle person." I said quietly, as if someone would hear.

Ivar snorted loudly. "Don't tell anyone. I'm trying to be terrifying."

"Of course not." I said. "And you are terrifying, to others at least."

"So you have never been afraid of me?" Ivar asked, his eyes narrowing.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and buried my face in the pillow for a moment before coming back out and looking at Ivar. "I think maybe when you and your brothers caught me at that inn? That was the first time any of you really scared me. Not anymore though; I know now that you all are soft."

Ivar let out a barklike laugh and he kissed me hard for a moment before breaking the kiss and grinning at me. "Oh, Augusta! I've been scared of you since the moment we met."

"I'm not scary." I said.

"Maybe not to others," Ivar said with a half shrug. "But to me, you're terrifying."

I snorted at him and rolled back over. "Whatever you say, Ivar. Go to sleep." Ivar smirked at me for a bit before leaning back and closing his eyes, a smile still on his face.

In my dreams that night, I stood alone in a dark forest. The sky above was dark blue with stormy looking gray clouds. Below me, small bugs were flying around the tall grass, but they were lighting up bright yellow. I stared for what felt like a long time before the light bugs flew away from me in a long cluster and started down the hill. They stopped and hovered for a while and I got the sense that they wanted me to follow. So I did.

The terrain here was nothing like England, I thought. I kept my footing somehow going down hill, following the light bugs as they flew easily down the steep hill and past a tree line. I went after them and ended up in a clearing. I looked up again and saw that this clearing, valley, was surrounded by mountains and woodland on every side. I looked back towards the glowing yellow bugs and saw that they were heading towards a woman.

I didn't get to see her face, but the scent of roses was suddenly so overwhelming I thought I could choke, but I didn't. The woman was tall and her hair was red gold and curly and went down to her elbows. She stood proud and tall and I froze in my tacks. A raven was perched on her shoulder and it turned and stared at me with an intelligence that wasn't normal for a mortal raven.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in bed in the dark bedroom in Thetford.


	31. 31: Ash and Elm

It didn't snow that much in Thetford, instead the winter brought ice cold rain that beat down on anyone who dared to walk outside. During the night the snow would fall down only to get washed away by the ice water.

Hvitserk crashed into the great hall one morning, completely soaked. His boots made squishing noises with every step he took and his braids were very dark with water. I sat at the table alone, eating the breakfast that servants kept bringing out.

"Are you okay?" I asked after swallowing my food. Hvitserk slumped into the seat next to me, shedding his cloak as he did.

"I need a roaring fireplace and blankets, Runa." Hvitserk replied. "What're you eating?"

I slid the plate of burned pork towards him. "It's cooked with grease." I said. "We ate it a few times in Winchester. Usually we only ate it during saint days."

Hvitserk ate it and immediately started taking more of it. "I'll take all of it, thank you." I snorted as he started shoving more pork into his mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a serving girl with long dark hair creep over and pick up the wet cloak Hvitserk had left on the ground. She gave Hvitserk a long look before taking it over to the fireplace, laying it down beside the fire to dry.

Hvitserk made himself a bowl of porridge and dumped some honey into it. "Where is everyone, by the way. I've barely seen any Saxons around. Usually there are more servants than that one." He waved a hand at the girl by the fire.

I sighed heavily, picking at the wooden table with my ragged fingernails. "It's Christmas today."

Hvitserk looked at me and blinked. "That's the big one, right? The big saint's day?"

"It's the saint's day to end all saint's days." I replied. "The Saxon god, you see, had one mortal son, who was born on today. So all Christians celebrate his birth every year."

"Why is this mortal son so important?" Hvitserk asked, looking a tad confused.

"Well first of all, his mother was a virgin, so that's pretty special." I said. Upon seeing Hvitserk's face, I snorted a laugh. "Yeah, the Saxon god impregnated a virgin and she gave birth to his son."

"Or maybe she slept with someone she wasn't supposed to and blamed the pregnancy on her god." Hvitserk said incredulously. I let out a sharp laugh that got the attention of the serving girl.

"Anyway, the son grew up and had to die an awful death to pay for mankind's sins." I finished. Hvitserk shook his head and popped another piece of pork into his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Hvitserk asked after a long moment of silence. I looked at him and he was watching me from the corner of his eye. "I only ask because you're quieter than usual. Or more quiet than after the bishop did-" He cut himself off, giving the yellowing bruises on my face a glance before darting his eyes to the table.

"I don't know, Hvitserk." I answered honestly. "I think the holiday has made it worse. I know exactly what's happening back in Winchester. Right now it's early morning, so the royal family will be at the cathedral praying and rejoicing, rejoicing and praying. Then around lunchtime, they'll go back to the castle. The cooks would've been roasting pigs for the whole morning in honey and chestnuts and rosemary. The royals would eat with the rest of the court as servants brought in course after course. That's the only thing I miss about Winchester right now-the smell of that feast."

Hvitserk was watching me carefully. "You know what you'll be eating this time next year? Salted eels and roasted doe. More fish than you could possibly eat but it'll be fun to try. Oh, and geese and partridge. What are they drinking in Winchester right now?"

I was already smiling at him, but I went along. "Dark beer and lots and lots of wine."

"Well, this time next year," Hvitserk said in a lofty voice. " _You're_ going to be drinking mead, which is the best thing you can drink. And I lots of beer and wine too, I suppose. You're clearly going to be in a better place next year."

I reached out and hugged Hvitserk. He hugged me back and kissed the top of my head when we seperated. "Thank you, Hvitserk." I said. "I mean it."

He shrugged. "It's true; no need to thank me for stating the facts. I think you'll like Kattegat; it's a very important city, you know."

"I know." I replied. The serving girl had come a bit closer and was cleaning the edge of the table a little ways away from us. There was no way she could understand us, but she kept throwing glances at Hvitserk, interest etched clearly across her face. I snickered. "I think our serving girl is fond of you, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk looked at the girl for a long moment, making eye contact with her and causing her to blush. When the rush of red went across her face, Hvitserk looked right back to me, his green eyes gleaming.

"Why thank you for pointing that out, Runa." He said.

I recognized the mischievous look in his eyes. "How're you going to seduce her? Neither of you can speak the others language."

Hvitserk let out a barklike laugh that made the girl look towards him again. "Attraction doesn't need translating."

"Ew." I said, piling bread and cheese into a linen and wrapping it. "You have fun. I don't want to watch this." I said it through a laugh to let him know I was kidding. Hvitserk laughed shortly along with me as I got up and I felt his eyes on me until I left the great hall and out of sight.

The stairs to the dungeons were dark and sort of damp. I carried the bundle of bread and cheese the whole way, eventually running into a massive Viking only known as White Hair.

"Good morning, White Hair." I said in a cheery voice that just sounded false. White Hair narrowed his green eyes at me.

"What do you want, Ecbertsdottir?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"I want to talk to him for a moment." I said, losing all interest in pretending to be nice.

White Hair glared at me. "I was told by Ivar the Boneless to not let that happen."

I glared right back at him. "What're you going to do if I choose to ignore that? Hit me? Throw me around like I weighed nothing? I know you could do it, White Hair." He glared furiously at me but said nothing, and I walked right past him and into the dungeons. Before disappearing entirely, I left the wrapped bread and cheese for White Hair, just to mend that bridge.

Heahmund the bishop was chained in almost the same position as in York. He looked up when I entered his cell. "I thought that was your voice." He said weakly. "Tell me why you've decided to suddenly come visit me?"

I sat down on the stool that I was sure Ivar had used whenever he came down here. "Merry Christmas, Heahmund." I said simply. Heahmund frowned as he realized how long he'd been chained up. "Before you ask, the cathedral is still doing festivities. The bells woke me up this morning."

"The pagans are letting Christians celebrate?" Heahmund asked, genuine interest in his voice.

"The pagans are more like ignoring the Christians." I said with a shrug. "It helps that nearly no one was killed when Thetford was taken. Princess Blaeja had made it clear that she is still Christian. The pagans are going about their business, and the Christians going about theirs."

"What is your point, Augusta of Wessex?" Heahmund asked after a long pause.

"That you're wrong." I said bluntly. "You and every other person who were dead set on Christians and pagans living beside each other. I'd let you go and see just how wrong you were, but I like you down here suffering even more."

Heahmund snorted and gave me a half smile. "Really? And I thought we had bonded during-"

"Fuck you, Heahmund." I cut him off.

Heahmund leaned towards me, his chains clinking slightly. "You say you want me to suffer here forever, but you have a gentler heart than these pagans. You want me dead to end this madness you claim to enjoy. Is that why you came down here today? The guards talk about you, you know. How the lover of Ivar the Boneless already murdered a Saxon man while he was captured. Killed with kindness, if you will."

When I hit him, I didn't expect my fist to hurt so much afterwards. Heahmund straightened, the blow adding a bright red mark to his already bruised face.

"Kenton was different." I said, more to myself than him. "Kenton was not you; he was nothing like you."

"And you still killed him." Heahmund spat at me. "I've killed men too, Augusta, countless of men. And I still dream of the first man whose life I ended. How many times have you dreamed about your own husband, I wonder?"

I stared at Heahmund with nothing short of hatred. I slowly shook my head. "You like to think you're in control, don't you? Kenton would've been tortured if I hadn't done anything. You? You could be flayed and I wouldn't raise a finger to try and prevent it."

On that note, I left, not wanting Heahmund to see me shaking. White Hair was standing with a dagger in his fist, looking like he had been listening in the conversation being spoken in Saxon. I blinked at him for a moment and he side stepped so that I could get past him.

* * *

Blaeja returned later that evening with her handmaids on either arm. The three ladies were giggling and looking like they had a good time at the church service. They nodded politely to me as they passed and, following almost immediately after them, was Sigurd.

Sigurd and I locked eyes and for a moment, he looked guilty. Had he gone to Christmas service with them? Sigurd answered my question by hurrying to catch up with Blaeja, a handmaid making room for him to walk beside his fiance.

Sigurd would be a good king, I thought to myself. If he was willing to sit in on his future wife's religious practices, he was definitely willing to let the Saxons here remain Christian.

Two days later was my birthday. When I told this to Ivar, he congratulated me on being born and asked how old I was now. I did the math in my head. "Twenty." I said. "I turned nineteen right before marrying Kenton." Aethelwulf would've turned twenty one a few weeks before my birthday this year.

The Vikings that still lived inside the walls of Thetford seemed to be settled and happy. Every now and then there'd be a crime but nothing bad enough to require the attention of the Ragnarssons. I kept giving Sigurd lessons in Saxon, and he was getting a lot better. Our Saxon conversations were losing the jerkiness of him struggling to pronounce words.

January brought even more icy rains and small snowstorms that'd last a couple of days before more icy rain drove the snow away. While I spent a lot of time huddled near a fire, the Northmen seemed rather comfortable with the weather.

"Augusta," Ivar started the moment I tried complaining about the weather. "The winters in Kattegat bury you in snow and sleet. The water freezes over if you don't watch it for long. Ask Ubbe and Hvitserk about the time they nearly drowned by getting caught under the ice. This is fishing weather."

"Ubbe and Hvitserk did what now?" I asked shrilly. Ivar just laughed at me to go ask them about it.

"Oh yeah." Ubbe said dismissively when I asked. "We were young when that happened."

Hvitserk gave a giant shudder. "I still remember that. We were walking on the ice when all of a sudden-" Hvitserk cut himself off and made a sickening cracking noise.

Ubbe snorted at his brother and looked back to me. "That kind of water, it's black and so cold, you can't think of anything else other than the cold."

I stared at the two of them. "How'd you get out then?"

"Siggy pulled us out." Ubbe said, his voice suddenly sounding sad. "The woman Bjorn's daughter is named after. Siggy saw us on the ice and ran after us when we went under. She got us out but...just sunk down."

I got up from my seat and moved to a seat by the fireplace. Hvitserk took a long swig of ale and so did Ubbe. I didn't have a mug of ale to drink, so I just wrapped the blanket I had brought with me even tighter around me. Aethelwulf's blanket was warm and was, in a way, comforting.

From an outsider perspective, Sigurd and Blaeja were getting closer. They spoke to each other in Saxon, and a lot of what Sigurd told her made Blaeja smile. Sigurd stopped eating with the group as he and Blaeja often had their meals privately.

"He is not what I expected." Blaeja confided to me one evening. "He is much gentler than I originally thought."

I thought about Ubbe, Hvitserk, Ivar, and even Bjorn, and immediately agreed that Sigurd was the most gentle out of Ragnar's sons. Blaeja was still smiling absentmindedly, and I felt a stab of happiness that she seemed to really like Sigurd.

Ivar and I finally started having sex again. After the tent, Ivar hadn't wanted to hurt me in any way. Now in late January, when my back stopped bleeding and the scarring on my body finally tough with scar tissue, I didn't feel fragile anymore. The bruises on my face had gone from nearly black to purple to yellow and finally disappearing in January. My hair was still very short, but it had grown, I could see that now.

Meanwhile, the serving girl named Daisy who had made eyes at Hvitserk kept making eyes at him. Hvitserk had admitted to sleeping with her more than once, but he sounded mostly uninterested. I had about five minutes of annoyance with him when I heard that she was starting to throw up everything she ate.

In February, the head steward of the castle, Cerdic, wanted to go over wedding preparation and I had been thrown into the role since none of the Ragnarssons wanted to touch that topic.

"Royal weddings are a huge affair, as I'm sure you know, my lady." Cerdic was saying as we entered the entrance hall where the servants and thralls were scrubbing. I quickly spotted Freydis and her redheaded friend among the thralls, and Daisy the serving girl among the Saxons.

I nodded absentmindedly. "I remember. The wedding won't be for another few months now, though. Why prepare the castle for guests now?"

Cerdic shifted his feet uncomfortably under my gaze. "Well, spring will soon be upon us. Next month at the earliest, I'm sure you know. And, if you'll excuse my curtness, I think the rest of the war will be quick."

I blinked and shrugged at that. "I suppose. If you really want to go into preparation, I'd look into the food. Wedding days are full of feasting, as I'm sure you know."

"Right!" Cerdic exclaimed, either not noticing my annoyance at being put in this position or not caring. Cerdic led me farther into the entrance hall, pointing up at the chandeliers. "Now those will have to be dusted every-"

Daisy the serving girl interrupted Cerdic by loudly throwing up into a bucket. I heard an older servant hurry to her while saying, "Stupid girl!" Daisy threw up again into the bucket as the older woman held her dark hair back. The woman looked up and made eye contact with me. "Oh! Forgive her, my lady. She's been feeling under the weather for the last couple of weeks. I'm sure it's a simple cold, nothing to worry about."

Cerdic tutted from beside me. "If it's a simple cold, then she should not be surrounding herself with others. What if they got sick. Girl, go find Madam Ardith. She'll have something for you to do that'll keep you by yourself."

I watched as Daisy coughed several times, straightened up, and left the entrance hall to go downstairs where the servants lived. Freydis the thrall approached Daisy's throw up bucket with a disgusted look on her face and she picked it up to take it outside.

Something wasn't right.

That night once Ivar had limped into our room, he found me pacing the length of the room, limping. "Sit down, Augusta." He said bluntly. "You're limping. If you're not careful your feet will bleed again."

I plopped down on the edge of the bed as Ivar limped over and took the spot beside me. Before I could say anything, he unsheathed a dagger and held it towards me by the blade, so that the wooden handle was facing me.

"What's that?" I asked, carefully taking the dagger from him. The wooden handle was half dark, half light, newly polished it looked, with a long strip of leather wrapped tightly around the wood. The blade itself was thin, but incredibly sharp. I gently ran a finger down the blade and felt the careful bite.

Ivar cleared his throat. "When Midgard was new, Odin and his brothers Vili and Ve were walking along a beach. They came across two pieces of driftwood that sort of looked like a man and a woman. So the three brothers breathed life into the driftwood, giving them thought and the ability to see and hear and feel. They dressed them in clothes and named them Ask and Embla. They are the first man and woman in the world, and the father and mother of all mortals for they inherited Midgard."

I stared at the two toned handle and pointed to the two shades. "Ask and Embla. Ash and elm. Right?"

"Right." Ivar said, resting his chin on my shoulder. "You are still learning our gods and our stories; I just thought this would be one way of telling you about Ask and Embla."

I smiled at him and leaned my head against his while reaching out to hand him the blade back. But Ivar shook his head. "That is yours. Augusta, what happened with the bishop almost killed you; it almost killed me when you came the way you did. If you had a weapon, maybe you would've been able to…" He trailed off and sat back up, the same frustration gleaming in his eyes.

I reached my free hand behind his head and started to gently undo his braid. "Thank you, Ivar." I said, trying to put more meaning into my words. I didn't want to just thank him for the dagger. Ivar leaned back in and kissed me hard, grabbing onto my face to try and bring me in closer.

"I don't want you getting hurt, Augusta." Ivar seemed to almost growl between kisses. I didn't reply to that. Instead, setting the dagger down off the bed, I pushed Ivar down onto his back and pinned him down.


	32. 32: Scar Tissue

The library in the Thetford castle was smaller than the one in Winchester. The brittle scrolls were written in Latin and Frankish and a lot of it were copies of meetings that had happened here. How many times Lord Edmund of Ipswich had visited and what they had talked about? The most recent ones were about Lord Edmund trying to figure out what to do when the Vikings eventually showed up in East Anglia.

I found an intricately painted map of the Mediterranean with labels and names to places. I looked at the dot labeled Rome and chewed thoughtfully on the inside of my mouth for a moment. I had always wanted to visit Rome.

Greece had many dots littering it. I thought about the phase I had gone through, trying to learn Greek. Father had said Greek was a useful language, for I could've read the Greek dramas in their own language. I had studied Greek for about a month before I came across Athelstan's notes on the language of the Vikings.

Across the sea from Greece and the remnants of the Roman empire was Egypt. The paint of the desert was pale gold with a very thin blue line, signifying the Nile river. I thought of Bjorn and wondered where he was now. Surely by now he'd be sailing deep into the Mediterranean.

There was a sudden burst from the library's doors and I looked up in time to see a Saxon man rush into the library. He spotted me and hurried to my table. "My lady!" He said through heavy breaths. "The Vikings are mobilizing!"

"They're what?" I asked, standing up from the table. I left the library with the Saxon man rushing after me. In the entrance hall, I found the Ragnarssons circled around each other near the door.

I marched right up to them and planted myself between Ubbe and Ivar. "What's this I'm hearing about the army mobilizing?"

"That Edmund guy," Hvitserk answered. "He's marching towards us right now. We're going to meet him there."

"This war is finished the moment he is." Ubbe said darkly. "The weather's warm enough to fight and sail back home."

"I'm not letting this city get taken under siege." Sigurd said darkly. "We're moving out as soon as possible."

Ivar narrowed his eyes at Sigurd. "Perhaps you want to discuss these decisions with the rest of us, Sigurd. You are not the only leader of the Great Army, in case you've forgotten."

Sigurd flared up and took a step towards Ivar. "I am to be this city's king. Forgive me for not asking you permission to mobilize the army to defend it."

Ivar opened his mouth to snap back but Ubbe cut him. "Stop it, both of you. The army is leaving soon regardless of either of you." He looked down at me. "Sigurd's not good enough to translate for us out there."

There was an immediate snap of disapproval from Ivar. "After what happened last time? No, she can't come with us."

Sigurd rolled his eyes and left, heading outside to the bustling Viking army. Ubbe looked like he was trying to bite back words and Hvitserk just narrowed his eyes at me with his arms crossed. I heaved a sigh and looked up at Ivar.

"Sigurd can't do the translating for you all," I tried reasoning with Ivar. "He's still learning."

Ivar glared down at me. "I don't care about Sigurd. I care about you getting hurt again. You already have too many scars."

Hvitserk shifted his feet uncomfortably, a flash of guilt in his eyes. I narrowed my eyes right back at Ivar. "That was nearly five months ago, Ivar. I'm f-"

"If you say that you're fine, you're lying." Ivar said dryly. "You still have nightmares, not just the ones I wake you up from. I hear you nearly every night crying in your sleep."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Ubbe moved forward, gently pushing me away from Ivar to stand between the two of us.

"How about this," Ubbe said, sounding more frustrated than before. "She comes with us, but someone is with her the whole time. Someone walks with her and makes sure she doesn't get hurt in any way, shape or form."

Outside, the Vikings were thundering to the city's gates. If a decision was going to be made, it needed to be made _now_.

I shoulder my way in front of the three of them. "I believe translating is _my_ job. None of you are going to leave me behind so that I can't do the only job I have. If you want someone to guard me, then you'd best find someone fast because I'm coming with you."

Ivar's eyes flashed dangerously but before he could object, I locked eyes with him. "What would you do to stop me? Chain me down?" Before he could come up with a response, I turned on my heel and stalked outside to get my horse.

Several minutes later, I was on horseback with Sigurd beside me when Ivar's chariot drove past, leaving the city in what felt like a huff. Sigurd shook his head and looked just as annoyed as earlier. He gave me a look. "I don't know what you see in him."

I blinked. "I knew him before he was Ivar the Boneless."

"Before he meant anything." Sigurd said darkly. He nudged his horse and rode off before I could say anything. Instead, I moved my horse to the side of Thetford's walls to avoid the Viking army now leaving the city.

Sigurd had put a couple dozen Vikings in the castle, to protect his betrothed and also keep the city under Viking control. I had made sure to tell him that none of the Saxon kings would take him seriously as a ruler if he couldn't keep his seat.

Hvitserk caught up to me when the army had finally completely left Thetford. "There you are," Hvitserk said, riding to the end of the army to ride beside me. "Why are you all the way back here?"

I shrugged. "Because I can."

Hvitserk blinked at that and for a moment we rode in silence. It wasn't until he started casting glances at my short hair did I figure out what was on his mind. I looked at him. "What do you want to say, Hvitserk?"

He swallowed, his throat bobbing slightly. "Is what Ivar said true? That you wake up crying?"

There was a long moment of silence. "Yes."

Hvitserk stared at me with guilt flashing in his face. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Runa."

"It wasn't your fault." I insisted, knowing that Hvitserk needed to stop blaming himself. "You weren't the one who hurt me."

"But I took you there!" Hvitserk snapped with sudden emotion. "If Ubbe and I hadn't been stupid, if we had thought of something else, you wouldn't have been taken back to the Saxons. You would still have hair and you wouldn't have scars all over your back and you wouldn't wake up in pain!"

I stared at Hvitserk. He had stopped his horse and he looked more frustrated than he had just a moment before. I moved my horse around so that I could face him. "Hvitserk. I didn't know you still felt that way."

"We thought you were dead for months, Runa." Hvitserk said, sounding more disgusted with himself than before. "Ubbe tried to launch an attack on the Saxons but the siege happened. Sigurd didn't speak to us and Ivar-" He cut himself off. "Ivar changed."

"Changed?" I echoed.

"Changed." Hvitserk affirmed. "He wanted to kill me and Ubbe right after it happened, but he didn't. He got quiet, Runa. Like he was plotting, thinking about something. For two months, we all thought you were dead, and King Harald was trying to get us to leave you behind and forget about bringing you back."

"I came back though, Hvitserk." I insisted. "Please stop blaming yourself for what happened, because I don't."

"You don't, but others do." Hvitserk snapped at me. I blinked at him and before I could question him further, Hvitserk kicked his horse into a run, charging up the length of the Viking army. I sighed heavily and kicked my own horse into a fast trot, trying to get to the head of the caravan.

* * *

The Viking army met Lord Edmund's army sooner than expected. The moment the army came into sight, White Hair found me and gruffly told me to stay with him. I snorted when I saw that it was White Hair who Ivar had gotten to protect me during the battle. White Hair had never cared for me, but he was strong and equipped to die fighting to get to Valhalla. No wonder Ivar picked him.

White Hair and I sat atop our horses together about a half mile away from the battle, between the camp and the actual battleground. White Hair was glaring hard at the direction of the battleground, looking frustrated with the fact that he was stuck guarding me instead of fighting. I felt his same frustration; I hadn't needed a guard before.

Before Heahmund that was, I thought darkly. Heahmund ruined a lot of things.

My train of thought was interrupted at the sight of a trio of Saxon soldiers came into view, coming right at us. White Hair turned and glared at me. "Get back, Ecbertsdottir."

I looked at him for a moment before pulling my horse back several feet as White Hair charged forward to meet the three Saxons. I turned my horse around but kept my eyes hard on the charging Saxons, ready to run if White Hair lost the fight.

If White Hair lost the fight…

I could assume these Saxons fought for Lord Edmund. White Hair could easily take down at least one without question, but three at once? Would these men bother taking me back to Lord Edmund as a hostage?

My throat felt tight at the thought of being hostage again. My right hand found the ash and elm dagger and I clenched at it, preparing myself to use it. As White Hair leapt off his horse and onto one of the Saxons, I vowed that I'd rather die than get taken hostage again.

White Hair dragged the Sazon off his horse and smashed his head into the ground as the two soldiers on horseback caught up, one of them hopped off his horse fast and swung his sword at White Hair, who dodged by rolling off the grounded soldier, so the sword swinging Saxon ended up striking his ally by accident.

The Saxon who was still on horseback started riding again, but this time he started towards me.

For a moment, my mind went blank with what to do. I withdrew the dagger from its sheath-the only weapon I had on me. The Saxon gained speed as he came towards me and I kicked my horse in the side to get out of the way. The Saxon withdrew his sword and swung it at me as I hurried out of the way. As long as I stayed on this horse, I'd be okay. There was no way I'd be able to fight a fully trained warrior on foot.

I risked a glance at White Hair and saw that the first soldier was dead with a pool of blood surrounding his head. Right now White Hair was in melee with the other soldier, both of them covered in mud.

My soldier let out a shout as he swung his sword again, this time I wasn't fast enough to dodge completely, and my horse ended up getting sliced along the side. My horse screamed and reared up onto his legs throwing me off incredibly easily.

My back slammed into the muddy earth, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me gasping to catch my breath. But then I saw a hoof approaching my face and I started rolling in the opposite direction as fast as I could.

The Saxon who was trying to get his horse to run me down laughed and finally jumped to the ground. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I scrambled to my feet. "I thought Viking bitches were supposed to be good at fighting." He chuckled in the Saxon language.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I retorted at him in Saxon, and I forced myself to not laugh at the look on his face.

The Saxon was alive for only a half second more as White Hair charged out of nowhere, his horse running the Saxon down with a sickening crunch. I let out a scream of fright and launched myself backwards, covering my mouth out of instinct as the Saxon died beneath the horse's hooves.

"Are you alright, Ecbertsdottir?" White Hair asked, driving his horse off the body and looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded jerkily. "I think so."

White Hair dismounted and his pale eyes looked me up and down before he nodded in agreement. "You will live, Ecbertsdottir. Stay here." He left me to check the Saxon bodies, to make sure there was nothing valuable on them.

From over the ridge, the war horns sounded, signalling the end of the battle. White Hair looked at me for a moment before walking towards the ridge, gesturing for me to follow him. I caught up and we climbed the ridge to see the aftermath of the battle.

The Saxon forces had been beaten back. Vikings were hurrying over the bodies and weaving among the survivors, all of them covered in blood and mud. I caught sight of Ubbe, pacing between a group of Saxon survivors.

I felt the hair on my arms stand straight up when I recognized Lord Edmund himself among those survivors.

"Shit." I muttered. White Hair gave me a look but said nothing, instead ignoring me and going down into the battlefield. I went after him and allowed him to leave when I reached Ubbe. "That's Lord Edmund." I told him in a hushed voice.

"I gathered." Ubbe replied. He pointed to the Saxons surrounding Lord Edmund. "These men act as his guards." I followed his finger and swallowed as the former king glared daggers at me. Ubbe frowned at me. "Are you okay, Runa? You're covered in mud and you're shaking."

"I'm fine," I snapped without thinking. "I, I have to go find Ivar." And without another word to Ubbe, I turned tail and wandered off, leaving Ubbe behind.


	33. 33: Heathens

"How do you sleep at night?" Lord Edmund's voice was cracking and tired. He hadn't slept a wink since the Vikings had taken him four days ago. All efforts to get him to talk had failed, until I came in and sat down with him in the prisoner's tent.

I shrugged slightly. "Quite comfortably if I'm honest. You should probably get some sleep, my lord."

"Your _king_ ," Edmund snapped, spittle flying from his dry lips. "If King Ecbert was going to give away East Anglia, he should've given back to me and my family! We had been kings for generations before your father sent his attack dog of a son in-" Edmund cut himself off and spit onto the ground by my feet.

I sighed a little and leaned onto the table that was beside me. Lord Edmund's solitary confinement tent was a lot nicer than Kenton's had been, and I credited myself for being the reason why. After finding out he was captured, I had a whole twenty minute argument with Ivar and the other sons of Ragnar about how Edmund was a highborn and technically still one of Sigurd's followers. Sigurd had jumped to my side at that point.

Edmund shook his head angrily, his jowls moving with him. He was somewhere in his late forties, and had been looking after his family's land since he was twenty. Finally, his green eyes looked to me.

"Tell me what has happened in the days since I was taken, Augusta." Edmund ordered. "I have heard battle even from in here."

"The Mercians have joined the fight," I replied after a moment's pause. "When your army began to surround us, the Mercians swooped in from the west and...and your army was caught between the Mercians and the Vikings."

Edmund closed his eyes and his mouth moved silently in a prayer. I waited until he was finished praying to continue. "My lord, why did you bring your wife to the frontlines?"

Edmund opened his eyes and looked at me miserably. "Is Alodia alive? Are my children alive?"

"Alodia is alive." I said quickly, not wanting him to worry. "And you're children are just fine. Scared, but fine."

Hvitserk had been the one who led a raid on the army's camp right before the army of Mercia came. In the middle of burning the camp, a woman in her thirties had bunkered down in a hastily made shack for weaponry, her handmaidens and children behind her and a dagger pointed at Hvitserk's face. Edmund's lady wife had been difficult to calm down, and Trygve had rushed back to camp to grab me and help calm the lady and her children and handmaidens.

Lady Alodia was currently in a private tent with her children and handmaidens just a short walk away, permanently under guard. I was supposed to talk to her right after talking to Edmund.

Edmund sighed in relief and did another silent prayer under his breath. When he looked back to me, he looked a bit more at peace. "I'm going to die, Augusta." He locked eyes with me when I didn't answer. "We all heard about what happened to King Aelle. We heard the report of King Ecbert body's being found. I know my death will be bloody. I just want you to promise a dying man that you'll protect his wife and children."

I thought about Alodia nearly stabbing Hvitserk and nodded. "I'll make sure she and your children are treated fairly."

Tears glinted in Edmund's eyes and he nodded, his jowls jiggling along with his head. "Thank you, Augusta. Please leave me."

I left the solitary tent to the rainy morning, the rain seemingly affected by the dire mood of the Saxons. The war for East Anglia technically wasn't over, but the man who would've been king was in Viking custody and already sentenced to death.

Other prisoners were not as lucky as Edmund to stay inside. The Saxon prisoners huddled together as the rain drizzled down on them. Berglijot was standing outside and waiting for me.

I noticed the hair on the shaven side of her head was growing out even more now. I pointed slightly to the small hairs growing and she smiled before reaching out and gently brushing the short hair I had.

"We match." Berglijot said teasingly, her accent getting a lot better to understand. I smiled back at her before reaching out and touching the inch long hair on half of her head.

"Should I shave half of my head as well?" I asked. Berglijot snorted good naturedly as we left the Saxon prisoners to go to Lady Alodia's tent.

"You look lovely, Runa." Berglijot said, gently petting my short hair again. The hair had grown bout five inches since Heahmund had shaved it off; if I wanted to cut it again, now would be the time.

Lady Alodia of Kent was a proud looking woman in her thirties. Her three young children were seven and three years old, with the youngest being just five months old. When I entered the tent with Berglijot at my side, Lord Edmund's second wife was sitting in a chair with baby at her breast and one of her handmaids at her shoulder with the three year old boy.

"Lady Augusta," Alodia said curtly, giving me a very brief glance. "Kind of you to visit us this morning. Why are you here?"

I looked to the seven year old daughter just a few feet away from me, reading the Bible with another handmaid. "I think it's best for your children if they left the tent, my lady."

Alodia's eyes flashed for a moment before she looked to the handmaid at her shoulder. "Elizabeth, Maynild, please take the children outside. Some fresh air will do them good."

As the handmaids named Elizabeth and Maynild took the seven year old girl by the hand and left the tent, I turned to Berglijot. "Could you walk with them? I don't want any other Viking thinking they're trying to run off."

Berglijot nodded firmly and went after them. When I turned back to Alodia, she was watching me curiously. "Are you a leader of the Viking army now?"

"What do you mean?" I asked with a frown.

"That Viking woman follows you everywhere, from what I've seen." Alodia explained. "Either she's a guard protecting you from danger, or a guard making sure you don't run away. One answer tells me you're a leader who deserves to be protected. The other answer implies you're just an innocent Saxon girl who was taken away from her husband. Which is it?"

I stared at Alodia for a moment. "Neither. Berglijot is a friend. She followed my request because I asked her to."

"Friend?" Alodia echoed. "I didn't think the Vikings were capable of making friends. They're a band of heathens from what I understand."

I thought then that she didn't understand much. But I held my tongue on that thought and smiled. "I've been with the Vikings for several months now. You have to bond with some of them to stay alive."

"Several months or a full year?" Alodia asked with her own smirk on her face. "You are an interesting character, Augusta of Wessex. I would call you an ambitious woman if I knew what you wanted at the end of this war."

"What I want is a warm hearth and safe place to rest at night." I said curtly. "Lady Alodia, you're husband is going to be killed today. Before sundown. The army of East Anglia was crushed between Mercia and the Vikings. After Lord Edmund is dead, a lot of bad things could happen to you and your children."

Alodia's smirk had left her face and she was staring blankly at me. "I will not become some Vikings war prize." She told me softly, real fear shaking her voice. "You and I both know what happens to widows when their home is gone."

Those widows were given to the highborn conqueror who yelled the loudest, I thought darkly. If the widow had children, the children would be killed by dogs or by being thrown off city walls. Alodia squeezed her infant daughter closer to her, causing the little girl to dislatch from her mother's breast and let out a high pitched squeak.

"I don't want that to happen, my lady." I insisted. "I've spoken to the Viking who was given this land, and he agreed to let you live if you swear fealty to him and his descendants. Your son will have to swear fealty too."

"My son is three years old!" Alodia snapped. "Sherwyn would have no idea what he would be saying, let alone promising the man who kills his father!"

"But you do know what'll happen." I pressed. "If you and little Lord Sherwyn do not swear fealty to Sigurd, then I cannot promise your children living and you not being sold off to whoever wants to rape you."

Tears fell from Alodia's brown eyes and her baby started squirming. "What about Guinevere and Odelyna? What about my daughters?"

I heaved a sigh. "You and one of your daughters may still live in Ipswich, and you may raise her as you see fit."

"One of my daughters?" Alodia looked like she was barely breathing.

When Sigurd had given me the terms for Alodia, I had argued furiously with him. That this wasn't fair and that this was overkilling it. But Sigurd had held firm and eventually all of his brothers had agreed with him and urged me to go and give the terms to Alodia of Kent.

"You must choose which daughter remains with you." I started slowly, pulling the words out of me. "The other must join a convent. She will relinquish all titles she was born with and leave you to become a nun."

Alodia stared at me for a long time, tears gathering in her eyes but not falling. Finally, "You wish for me to choose which daughter to give up? They're both so young, they wouldn't remember me."

"I'm sorry, my lady." I said, feeling like those words weren't near enough. Alodia looked down to her baby in her arms and hugged her tight. I glanced outside the tent and saw Berglijot kneeling in the mud and speaking to the older daughter. That little girl had no way of knowing what Berglijot was saying, but she was laughing at the warrior's accent.

"When do I need to decide?" Alodia spoke softly, still looking at her baby.

"In a couple of hours." I said. "Before Edmund's execution."

"And what of Sherwyn? What of my son?"

"Sherwyn must come with us back to Thetford." I explained. "He'll be fostered there until he reaches the age of eighteen and then, he'll be married off to Princess Coventina of Mercia."

"Coventina of Mercia?" Alodia echoed, anger entering her voice. "The bastard daughter of that whore, Queen Kwenthrith? No! I will not let that whore marry her bastard baby to my only son!"

"You'll have to!" I raised my voice right back at Alodia. "If you refuse one part of this arrangement then everything is off the table and you're left to the mercy of Vikings. Do you want that?"

Alodia glared at me with nothing short of hatred in her eyes. "Leave me." When I didn't move right away, Alodia swooped to her feet and screamed, "Leave me be!" The baby in her arms started wailing and I finally took my leave, making sure to send her handmaids and children back inside and out of the rain.

The war council tent was warm from the bodies inside. The crowd of Vikings and Mercians parted for me as I entered with Berglijot right behind me. When I got near the center, the sons of Ragnar were there and surrounding a table with a map of East Anglia on it.

Sigurd saw me first and he blinked his mismatched eyes. "How did it go?" He asked, bringing his brothers' attention over to me.

"As well as could be expected." I snapped at him. "I still think making her choose which daughter to give up is excessive."

"The idea is to discourage any hint of rebellion." Sigurd replied with a shrug. To him, he wasn't going to be hurt at all by these decisions. Sherwyn coming to Thetford would most likely end up being Blaeja's or a random wet nurse's problem.

"We were just discussing how we're ready for the execution now." Winchell of Tamworth informed me. I narrowed my eyes at the spy from Wessex as he nervously cast glances at the Vikings on either side of me. "If you could let them know-"

"I told Alodia of Kent that she'd have at least a couple of hours." I cut him off in Saxon. In Viking I looked back to Sigurd. "Try to execute Edmund in two hours. Alodia has that much time to choose which of her children she'll give up."

Ivar got a wide smile on his face. "Just wait until you see how we'll be executing him, Augusta." He limped away from the table, brushing his hand against mine before disappearing. As Ivar left, so did a lot of the Vikings.

"Stay here for a moment," I said as Sigurd and Hvitserk made moves to leave. They both blinked at me but did as I asked. In Saxon, I stopped Winchell the spy from leaving as the Saxons left the tent.

"What do you need, my lady?" Winchell asked.

"You are a spy." I said in a matter-of-fact voice. Sigurd, getting a lot better at his Saxon, narrowed his eyes and glared at the man who now blanched before him. "Winchell, I know you were hired by my father King Ecbert, to spy on Queen Kwenthrith and report her meetings to Ecbert, yes?"

Winchell didn't even try to deny it. "I was paid by-"

"Winchell," I cut him off. "There's been an obvious power shift recently. I need to know whether or not you're truly on the Viking side or the Wessex side. Seeing how the fate of Mercia is so tied up with Viking affairs now, right?"

"Right." Winchell said softly.

"Winchell I think you know what happens to spies who are caught being spies." I told him. "And if you ever spy on Queen Kwenthrith or King Sigurd here for my brother, King Aethelwulf or anyone else ever again, I will not hesitate to make sure your cover is revealed. Understood?"

Winchell nodded jerkily and I finally nodded for him to leave the room. When he left, I sighed and sat down in the closest chair. Hvitserk watched the Saxon leave and looked to me and Sigurd. "What just happened?"


	34. 34: Different Worlds

Edmund was taken from his tent and brought to a clearing right outside of camp. I watched from Sigurd's side as the lord was tied to a post, his back pressed against the hastily made pyre. The rain had lightened to a faint drizzle as more people left the camp and into the clearing to watch the execution.

Lady Alodia was being led into the clearing by Trygve, who looked vaguely uncomfortable with her and her children trailing behind him. I shook my head and drew my hood farther onto my head, shielding myself from the rain more.

Hvitserk was helping tie Edmund to the post, Ivar standing in front of the Saxon lord with interest gleaming in his eyes. He was enjoying this a little too much, I thought grimly. From beside me, Sigurd was watching Alodia walking through the crowd with her head held high.

"You have to respect her." Sigurd muttered. "Any idea which of her daughters she chose?"

I followed his gaze and shook my head. "No idea."

"Which would you choose?"

"The baby." I answered without much hesitation. "Then the baby wouldn't remember you at all. The seven year old will remember her being sent away." Sigurd blinked at me and turned back around to face where Edmund was tied up securely to the post on the pyre.

Ivar limped forward and I could see his mouth moving. Whatever he said, it clearly upset Edmund. He tried to spit on Ivar and I closed my eyes for a brief moment. If Edmund wasn't already dead, he sure was now. Ivar wiped his face and I saw his mouth move, but I couldn't hear what he said. Edmund tried lurching forward, but his bonds to the post were too tight. I heard Ivar's breathless sounding laughter as he started to limp away.

I looked over my shoulder to where Alodia was standing, her newborn daughter in her arms and two older children clinging to her legs. Sherwyn was crying was his older sister kept looking up to her mother. But Alodia was staring at her husband, stone faced.

For a moment I didn't know what was going to happen to Edmund, but then Ivar raised his hand and three Vikings behind him raised their bows, knocked and loaded with arrows. When Ivar threw his hand back down, all three Vikings unloaded and the arrows zipped through the air and pierced into Edmund's belly.

The older man threw his head back and screamed as the arrows entered him. Ivar raised his hand again and the three Vikings behind him loaded more arrows. This time only two of the arrows found Edmund, the last flew past him and into the open field behind him.

I risked a glance at Alodia, and she was using her one free hand to cover her seven year old's eyes. The three year old already had his face buried in Alodia's skirts. I felt a stab of hard pity before turning back, expecting to see more arrows being loaded into Edmund.

Instead, Hvitserk was cutting the lord free from his bonds and forcing him to his knees. Ivar limped forward, the sword he had taken from Heahmund out and glinting in the sunlight.

The moment I saw that sword, I felt earth underneath my skinned up knees and Heahmund looming over me. "Repent, Augusta." Heahmund's voice came into my mind echoey and far away sounding. Then he had unsheathed his sword and smacked the flat end against the back of my thighs. Trails of blood had run from my thighs to the earth below me-

"Runa." Sigurd's voice snapped me back and I felt his hand on my wrist, squeezing it tightly. I jerked myself out of my memories just in time to see Ivar swing the sword and remove Edmund's head from his body.

Sigurd was too busy staring at me to notice the death. "Runa, are you okay?"

I blinked rapidly and wormed my hand out of his grip. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm completely fine…I'm going back to camp." With that, I drew my hood farther onto my head and left Sigurd standing there and looking bewildered.

The tent I shared with Ivar was chilly from no one being in here majority of the day. I removed the cloak and sat on the edge of the bed, holding my shaking hands together and trying hard to calm down. Heahmund was locked away back in Thetford, and he couldn't hurt me from there. That thought didn't stop me from reaching down and gently running my fingertips over the raised bumps on my thighs. Even after months, these scars still felt sensitive to touch.

After almost an hour, Ivar finally limped into the tent. His ice blue eyes narrowed in on and he frowned slightly. "Sigurd said you came back here. What happened?"

Without looking at him, I kicked the ground with my toe and grumbled. "I stressed out when I saw Heahmund's sword. I'm fine; it's fine."

"Augusta." Ivar said my name firmly, and I looked up to see Ivar frowning at me. "You're not fine. What do you mean you stressed out when you saw the sword?"

"I mean," I started. "When I saw the sword I remembered what it was like in that tent."

Ivar stared at me for a long moment and sighed heavily. "What do you need? I could go get some food or-"

"I don't need anything, Ivar." I cut him off gently. "I just need to calm down and then I'll go find out which of Alodia's daughters she's giving up."

Ivar blinked and limped closer, sitting on the bed with me. "You are in pain." He said matter-of-factly. I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong but he quickly shushed me. "No, not in physical pain. That lady from East Anglia choosing between her children, that is causing you pain. Remembering Heahmund causes you pain. Do you want to talk about it or shall I continue?"

"Ivar," I started in a quiet voice. "What are we doing, after this war I mean? You told me you thought of me as a wife; do I take that to mean I'm going back with you and your brothers to Kattegat?"

"Yes," Ivar said, his voice sounding irritated that the question had even been brought up. "People know you are practically my wife. And yes, I never intended on leaving this Christian island without you beside me."

Ivar dragged himself closer until he was practically pressed to my side. Before I could think about moving, Ivar had clamped his hand on the back of my head and pressed our foreheads together, closing his eyes as he did.

"When we are back in Kattegat," Ivar whispered, just low enough for me to barely hear him. "I will make myself king. I will take the throne that was my father's and sacrifice Lagertha the Usurper for the gods to have. And during all of that, you will be my queen."

I pulled away and took in Ivar's face, trying to get in every detail. I put my hand on his face and Ivar leaned into it, his eyes closing lazily. I smiled despite myself when he grabbed the hand I had on his face and and brought it to his lips, kissing my palm softly. Ivar made eye contact with me again and he had the faintest ghost of a smile on his face.

"I do not want Kattegat if you're not with me. You're my home, Augusta." He whispered, keeping his voice low. I leaned forward and kissed him, knowing that calling me his home was Ivar's way of saying that he loved me.

Neither of us wanted to leave our tent, but the war for East Anglia was pretty much over, and that meant the Vikings and Mercians and hostages needed to be dealt with. Ivar and I separated to do our separate duties, Ivar going to deal with the armies and I went to deal with Lady Alodia and the hostages.

Lady Alodia was kissing her seven year old a lot when I entered her tent. The handmaid named Elizabeth was hugging Sherwyn, keeping him away. The other handmaid named Maynild was rocking the baby to sleep.

"You are a brave little girl, Odelyna." Alodia was telling her daughter. "And you're going to do great things."

"But I don't wanna go!" Odelyna cried, tears falling from her green eyes, her father's eyes.

"I know you don't, my love." Alodia said, wiping the seven year old's face. "But this is for the best, I promise." She kissed the little girl's cheeks before standing up and facing me. "If you're going to take her away, it'd be best to do it now. I don't believe I'll have the strength to say goodbye again."

I nodded grimly and gestured for Alodia and Odelyna to follow me. Alodia took her daughter's hand and followed me outside into the drizzling rain. I led the way to the group of Saxons who had promised to take the girl to the nearest abbey.

"Is she bringing anything with her?" I asked quietly. When Alodia shook her head jerkily, I understood. Nunneries usually took away all previous things from before you came to them. Anything the little girl brought with her would've been taken away the moment she got there.

The Saxons heading to the nunnery were ready to go the moment Odelyna was put into the wheelhouse. I stood right beside Alodia as they rode off, taking her firstborn child away to live a completely new life.

"I hope you know I'll remember this, Augusta of Wessex." Alodia said darkly. I looked at her out of the side of my eye; she was glaring hard after the wheelhouse being pulled away. Alodia continued. "I don't know how yet, but I promise you I'll make sure you suffer the same way I am suffering now."

I prayed no one else could hear her. I didn't need Ivar hearing that this grieving mother threatened me. Ivar was kind to me, loving to me, but I knew for a fact he was going to be ruthless and cruel to everybody else. There didn't seem to be anyone else nearby, just a cluster of thralls skinning and gutting the animals that a hunting party had brought in. One of the thralls looked up and I immediately recognized Freydis.

Freydis and I made brief eye contact and there was no way of knowing she had heard Alodia or not. I instead looked back to Alodia, and gave her a glare before leaving her alone. Trygve, still stationed outside Alodia's tent, watched me return and sighed heavily when I got to him.

"I will make sure she is okay." Trygve said. I patted his shoulder and glanced back to where Alodia was still staring after where the wheelhouse had disappeared. I looked past her and saw Freydis whispering into the ear of another thrall.

"Do me a favor," I nodded to Freydis and the other thralls. "Keep an eye on them too."

Trygve frowned hard. "The slaves? Why?"

"Alodia said something that doesn't really matter," I said. "They might have heard, and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea." Trygve was watching the thralls, his black eyes gleaming with suspicion.

"I will let you know, Runa." Trygve promised, clapping me on the shoulder and giving me a kind looking smile. I quickly thanked him before leaving, looking for the war council tent, seeing as other tents were already being brought down.

When I got to the war council tent, Ubbe was in there alone. He looked up when I entered and gave me a tired smile. "The Mercians are heading out for Thetford. Some messengers have been sent to Wessex and Northumbria, to let them know about Sigurd's wedding." He paused and snorted. "Sigurd's wedding."

"It should be happening within the next month or two." I said, coming farther into the tent and sitting down at the table beside Ubbe. "I'll be looking forward to sleeping in an actual room again."

Ubbe smiled at that. "I will be happy when I am back home in Kattegat with Margrethe beside me."

"I'm sure she feels the same way." I replied. "Have you given much thought to the future, Ubbe? I know you want to have sons with Margrethe, but what else?"

Ivar's words of making me his queen were echoing around in my head. Did Ubbe want to be a king? Hvitserk? Sigurd was getting his own kingdom here. And what about Bjorn? He was traveling the sea right now, but he had four children including his stepson, if I remembered correctly. And it was Bjorn's mother who ruled Kattegat right now. Did Bjorn want the throne?

If Vikings ruled the way Saxons did, there'd be no question. Bjorn would get Ragnar's throne because he was the oldest. Ivar was the youngest; in Saxon culture, he would get titles and a tiny bit of land.

Ubbe shrugged at me. "I would be happy with just a large farm, my wife to warm my bed at night, sons to see the world and daughters to take care of me when I'm old."

I blinked. "Do you not want to be king of Kattegat?"

He gave me a look out of the corner of his eye. "Honestly, Runa, no. Ragnar's throne was never an interest of mine." He paused and he glanced to the tent's roof. "When I was younger, before Ragnar left Kattegat, I used to want to be king. We all did. Ragnar promised all of us that we'd be king, except Ivar. It was a different world from yours, Runa."

I nodded at that. "I believe that. I grew up knowing Aethelwulf would be king, and that there'd be absolutely no way I'd rule."

Ubbe didn't say anything to that and he sighed and stood up and stretched. "We'll be heading out before nightfall. That Saxon woman needs to be escorted back to Thetford, and her son-" He cut himself off again and sighed. "I don't like the solution Sigurd came up with."

I thought about Alodia threatening me and nodded in agreement. "Separating her from one child is one thing, but two children-"

Ubbe offered me his hand and I took it. He helped me stand up and we left the tent together. More tents were being broken down and the Vikings were rounding up the hostages. Trygve was still standing outside of Alodia's tent. I looked across the clearing to see the thralls finishing their work, but Freydis was gone.

I swallowed and set my jaw, getting a bad feeling in my gut. Freydis had made direct eye contact with me, just moments after Alodia threatened me. Something told me that the slave was up to something.


	35. 35: Shadows of Peace

The return to Thetford was a welcome one. Blaeja was waiting in the main hall when I walked back into the castle, her handmaids behind her and Cerdic the head steward at her shoulder. I saw Sigurd hesitate before going to her, a nervous looking smile on his face. Almost the moment Sigurd joined them, Cerdic launched into a tangent about wedding plans, and I hurried away to avoid getting roped into that conversation.

Now that East Anglia officially belonged to Vikings, focuses began to shift back towards going back to Norway. Except for the Vikings who had farmland right outside the city now, every other Viking was going back to their homes.

"You have never seen true mountains, Augusta." Ivar told me one night, curling his body around me and keeping me wrapped into his chest. "You have never seen the land the gods made specially for us. And you will." He buried his face into my collarbone and bite the skin there, causing me to yelp.

Daisy the Saxon servant had gotten rounder in the time we were gone, and it was now impossible to hide the fact that she was pregnant. Her belly was poking out in front of her now and she had a definite new sway to her walk that wasn't there. I thought back on how I had seen her getting sick a lot and momentarily cursed myself for not making the connection sooner.

Hvitserk, for the most part, was giving Daisy zero attention, barely looking at the servant when she was brought in to set food on the table the second night back. I felt a stab of pity as Daisy kept trying to catch Hvitserk's eye while my friend stared determinedly at the goblet full of dark beer.

Blaeja, in her usual seat at Sigurd's left side, watched Daisy with narrowed eyes. Daisy finished pouring beer and hesitated, making no effort to hide her attempts to catch Hvitserk's eye. Blaeja straightened slightly and cleared her throat in a dismissive way. Daisy flinched slightly and rushed off after the rest of the servant's.

Sigurd, having not paid any attention to his brother's pregnant lover, looked to Blaeja at the sound of her coughing. "Are you okay, Blaeja?" He asked in Saxon, his accent thick and slowly getting better.

Blaeja blinked and smiled slightly at Sigurd. "It is nothing, my dear." She looked to me where I was sitting between Ivar and Ubbe. "Augusta? Back in my father's castle, he never would have let a servant pregnant with a noble's child anywhere near the family. One time when I was nine, a serving girl was flogged for trying to tell a lord she was pregnant with his child."

Oh. I wondered if Daisy was anywhere within hearing distance and I nodded slightly at Blaeja's words. Ivar, being between me and Blaeja, nudged my side with a finger. "What're you talking about?"

I grabbed his finger and put his hand back on his side of the seating. "Some kings are like that. I know King Ecbert was never that harsh to servants that got pregnant." I left out the fact that it was sort of rare that servants and nobles had children and that I was not the best person to be telling that sort of punishment to.

My instincts told me that Constance had never been physically harmed for carrying the king's child, but maybe that was simply because it was the king's child she was expecting.

Blaeja paused for a moment, as if remembering who my mother was. Sigurd took a long swig from his goblet, being the only other person able to understand us. Ivar kept glancing between me and the princess while Ubbe and Hvitserk had their own conversation to distract from the one happening in Saxon.

"My apologies, Augusta." Blaeja said in a hurry. "I forgot for a moment that-" She cut herself off.

"That I was a bastard?" I asked. "Don't worry, your Grace, you can say it. It's of no offense to me."

Blaeja turned a shade of pink that somehow still made her look pretty. "I was going to say that I forgot for a moment that you weren't of the Northmen."

I stared hard at her and felt my face redden, not sure how to take that statement. Was it a compliment? Had I really changed that much since the beginning of this war? Sigurd seemed to think it was a compliment and reached out to take her hand. Blaeja jumped slightly at the touch but quickly calmed down and gave her betrothed a shy smile, her face still tinged pink.

Ivar poked me again, his eyebrows raised in a questioning way. I shook my head slightly at him, letting him know it wasn't anything. Ivar blinked and rested his hand on my thigh.

The conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk had gone heated in the time I hadn't been paying them any attention. Ubbe was leaning forward and glaring at his younger brother. "What do you mean you're going to do nothing?"

Hvitserk's green eyes blazed. "What would you have me do, Ubbe? Marry her just because she is pregnant? What do you think it will look like if we go back to Kattegat with Ragnar's three unmarried sons taking up with Saxons?"

"What do you mean by that?" Ivar snapped.

Hvitserk looked to me instead of Ivar. "No offense to you, Runa. You're a delight and Ivar is lucky to have you. But I'm saying Ubbe, it will look weird if all three of us come home with Saxon wives."

"I never said marry her, Hvitserk." Ubbe said with a shake of his head. His braided hair swung along with his head. "But like it or not, that is your son in her."

"Take her as a slave." Ivar suggested with a shrug. "When she gives you a son, free your son and sell her off to somewhere else."

"That seems a bit barbaric." I said, mostly to myself. Ivar gave me a look from the corner of his eye but didn't reply to me.

Sigurd swallowed a mouthful of beer. "Ivar has a point, surprisingly. The girl is already a servant; being a slave won't make that much a difference."

Blaeja looked lost at the conversation but followed along with her eyes following whoever was speaking. Hvitserk was glaring at the table and saying nothing. Ubbe groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Hvitserk, the family has to stick together. Ragnar's descendants will always be famous to our people. If you let a Saxon slave keep a grandson of Ragnar Lothbrok-"

"I'm not bringing her or that child to Kattegat." Hvitserk snapped and stood up, his chair squeaking awfully as he stood. He didn't make eye contact before stalking away, the back of his neck burning bright red.

I watched him go with concern. "Should someone go after him?"

"He'll cool down later," Ubbe said with a sigh, staring at the place where his brother disappeared. "Do not worry about it, Runa."

Anytime after that when Daisy's pregnancy was mentioned, Hvitserk became sullen and withdrawn. Daisy, the poor girl, somehow didn't get the message that Hvitserk didn't want anything to do with her anymore and continued to try and make eyes at him while bringing in food, her belly rounded with child.

"I'm honestly surprised this is the first time he's gotten a slave pregnant." Ivar told me one morning after Daisy and another servant finished laying out porridge and honey and wine. "Hvitserk has never been one to deny himself the women he wanted."

I shrugged at that, looking up from the scrolls I had been going over. "Considering the amount of women he's wandered off with..." I drifted off with my sentence as I read a handful of names on the scroll. I swallowed. "Princess Blaeja has invited my family."

Ivar's head snapped up at me. "She what?"

I showed him the brittle scroll even though he couldn't read it. "King Aethelwulf, Queen Judith, and Prince Alfred of Wessex are all here on the list of people she's invited. That makes sense, I suppose. Judith is her sister and from what I know they were close before Judith married my brother-"

"Augusta!" Ivar interrupted me. I flinched and stared at him. Ivar's expression was soft, a look I was only used to seeing in our shared room. "You were rambling."

"Oh, thank you then, Ivar." I said, definitely hearing the shaking in my voice now. "I thought I had seen the last of them when I left their camp."

"I thought you had too." Ivar agreed, sounding a bit annoyed. "I do not see the appeal of a large wedding."

"This one is going to be pretty small, seeing as it's right after a war and Sigurd is a Viking." I replied, hurrying to put the scroll out of my line of sight. "I know she's also invited her brother, King Ecgberht. I heard the stewards talking about how he's announcing his future wife after the wedding."

Ivar threw his head back and groaned extra loudly. "Who cares? There is too many politics at Saxon weddings."

"You are not wrong." I agreed, already wishing this wedding was over with. I could sense every single Viking who were sailing back to Norway getting antsy. They all wanted to go home right now and forget waiting for a wedding for that to happen.

When the wedding was two weeks away, guests started to arrive. The first was Queen Kwenthrith of Mercia and her children, along with a handful of people from her new court. "Too many rats as it would turn out." She whispered to me with a wink. I had watched her go and wondered how she had figured out who King Ecbert's spies were.

King Ecgberht of Northumbria and what looked like his entire court arrived four days after the queen had. The fifteen year old king looked healthier than the last time I had seen him, his face looking brighter and he looked more like a fifteen year old child than a war experienced king. But he greeted me personally and didn't hesitate to embrace Blaeja.

The wedding was three days away when the royal family and court from Wessex finally arrived. King Aethelwulf led the way into the throne room, Alfred at his right and I flinched when I saw the empty space that Aethelred would have normally filled. Where was Judith?

Sigurd sat on the throne with Blaeja standing right beside it, wearing a gown of pale blue and lilac, a rare color combination that suited her well. I stood between Hvitserk and Ivar sitting in a chair, watching with shallow breath as my older brother and nephew gave the proper courtesies to Sigurd and Blaeja. And then Aethelwulf's eyes went directly to me, as if he had been constantly aware of my presence and just waited until now to address me.

I felt Hvitserk's hand on my back protectively as Ivar leaned forward, no doubt glaring at Aethelwulf with nothing short of hatred. But Aethelwulf approached slowly, as if I was accompanied by rapid wolves.

He stopped just short of us and his face finally broke into a smile. "Augusta!" He said, sounding friendly and like he had actually missed me. I felt myself smiling without thinking and moved forward, ignoring the hiss of worry from Ivar.

Aethelwulf embraced me so tightly I thought for a moment that I would have bruises on my sides. I hugged him back, burying my face into his shoulder and feeling the strength there. I hadn't realized how much I had missed my brother's hugs until this moment.

When we seperated, Aethelwulf held me at arms length. "Your hair," He said slowly, reaching up and tucking locks of hair behind my ears. "It really looks nice."

"Thank you, Aethelwulf." I said, still a little rattled by my sudden emotion.

Alfred appeared at his father's side and he was quick to embrace me next. "I've missed you, Augusta." He said in very shaky Viking.

Hvitserk made a coughing noise and Ivar was watching Alfred like a dangerous bug the moment he spoke their language. I however, blinked and held my nephew at arms length. "Have you been reading Athelstan's scrolls?"

"And yours," He replied, his confidence making his Viking sound even more garbled.

I looked to Hvitserk and Ivar. "Could either of you understand him?"

They both stared at me, neither of them looking like they liked this development. But then Ubbe, standing closer to Sigurd's throne but close enough to hear, said, "I only really understood your name and 'missed.'"

Alfred turned faintly pink and looked down to me. "I will have to keep practicing."

He had completely mispronounced the word practicing, but I understood nonetheless. My brother was watching the Ragnarssons with narrowed eyes, looking like he was ready to launch himself into a fight at any second.

It seemed like not everything was peaceful and I mentally shook myself for thinking that it could be.

Aethelwulf and Alfred and the rest of their court were escorted to their apartments by a steward and I watched them go with a new sadness hanging over me.

"I had thought I would never see them again after the camp," I said to the Ragnarssons once the room was nearly empty. "Now I have to say goodbye again."

They had all looked at me and none of them could really say anything to that. Once again, I found myself wishing for the end of the wedding festivities, but for completely different reasons now.


	36. 36: The Wedding of Sigurd and Blaeja

There was always noise in the castle now, what with it being so full. I seemed to always be running between one Saxon to a Viking, trying to keep the language barrier down with little success. Queen Kwenthrith had apparently already slept with one of the Vikings, proudly boasting of maybe getting another half Viking child. King Ecgberht and Blaeja spent a lot of time together, with occasionally Judith joining them.

Judith hadn't wanted to pay respects to the soon to be couple, which explained why I hadn't seen her then. The first time I had seen her hadn't been ideal, seeing as she nearly bit my head off when I tried telling her good morning.

The morning of the wedding Sigurd nearly gave me a start when I spotted him. His long hair, falling past his shoulders and braided out of his face, was gone. I made a beeline towards him and reached up to tug on the edges of his short hair.

"When did this happen?" I asked, standing on my toes to reach his head.

"Nice to see you too, Augusta." Sigurd said with amusement. "I did this last night. Blaeja saw me by accident this morning." He paused and smiled to himself. "She did the same thing as you."

"It looks good on you, Sigurd." I said, finally letting him go now that I was done petting his short hair. "Your hair is shorter than mine now."

Sigurd laughed awkwardly and reached up and ran his hand over the hair. "I figured I had to fit in with the Christians as much as I could." He paused and gave me an odd look. "Is this how you feel, Augusta? Choosing between Christianity and the Viking gods?"

I blinked. "For me it wasn't much of a choice, Sigurd. Are you choosing between them?"

He lowered his voice. "In my heart, I believe in my gods. Frigg has to have known that my fate would lead me here in East Anglia. But to be king here, I have to at least look and act Christian."

I gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile. "You will do great, Sigurd. I have been faking my faith in Christianity my whole life and I turned out fine."

Sigurd let out a short barklike laugh-the same his brothers had-and he gave me a quick hug before letting me go to go to the cathedral. I smiled as he left before going on my own way to prepare for the wedding.

I had made sure going into the ceremony that the sons of Ragnar understood that the ceremony would be heavily Christian instead of pagan. "To better smooth things over with the Saxons." I explained. "If Sigurd gets married in a pagan ceremony while taking a Christian wife and ruling over Christians, it won't end well."

Ivar had still been irritated, but had no choice but to watch his older brother go through a Christian ceremony. I sat between Ivar and Hvitserk, grabbing onto both of their hands when I felt them both tense up. Ubbe sat on the other side of Ivar, keeping himself between his little brothers and the more Christian side of the cathedral. Sigurd looked incredibly uncomfortable the entire time, towering over the priest who was in charge, a man who looked slightly terrified the entire time Sigurd looked uncomfortable. Blaeja stared straight ahead, her face looking like it was made of stone.

By the time the wedding was over, it felt like I had been holding my breath for a long time, my eyes glancing from Sigurd and Blaeja to the Saxons on their side of the cathedral. My hands had been squeezing Ivar and Hvitserk's hands so much that I barely noticed that they were both squeezing my hands right back.

"Are you okay, Augusta?" Ivar asked the moment the ceremony was over and people began to stand and leave. I nodded hurriedly and released both hands.

Of course, the celebration was far from over. The entire wedding party marched from the cathedral and back to the castle, where Cerdic the head steward had readied the castle for the feast and reception.

The feast and reception were held in the great hall. Sigurd and Blaeja sat right beside each other, whispering quietly to each other and seemingly ignoring the rest of the room. I watched them for a couple of moments before shaking my head.

"This remind you of your own wedding?" Ubbe asked from his spot beside me.

"I was too busy dreading that night to pay attention to the reception," I replied. Ivar, stationed at my other side, let out a snort of amusement and his hand reached out and grabbed mine out of my lap. He squeezed my hand as his own eyes flicked between the jovial dancing of the guests to the stillness of the married couple. Across the hall, King Ecgberht and King Aethelwulf were speaking to each other in hushed tones, their heads bent close together.

"Would you look at Hvitserk?" Ivar pointed out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I followed his gaze and let out a small humming noise. It looked like Hvitserk had pulled Daisy aside from where she was serving the nobles still sitting. The three of us watched as Hvitserk pulled the pregnant servant aside, talking to her and making wide gestures with his hands, trying to get through the language barrier that was bound to be there.

"What do you think they're talking about?" I asked. Ivar shook his head and Ubbe remained completely silent, watching carefully. I looked around the area, trying to see any nobles who wouldn't understand the situation. "I hope she doesn't get in trouble."

Hvitserk gently grabbed Daisy's elbows and pulled her into a nearby corridor and out of the great hall altogether. Ubbe tore his eyes away from where they disappeared and looked at Ivar from over my head.

King Ecgberht stood up suddenly and I couldn't help but think that the young boy was starting to look more like his father. Dark stubble was growing on his face and neck into what would eventually become a beard. The dark hair on top his hair was curling around the bronze crown he had inherited. Ivar leaned into my ear, "It's a better looking King Aelle."

I stifled the huff of amusement that threatened to come out and Ivar smiled wolfishly at me. I caught a furious glance from Judith, where she sat at her husband's left side. I elbowed Ivar's side as the rest of the room hushed at the sight of the Northumbrian king standing and ready to speak.

King Ecgberht looked out of the crowd, his hazel eyes resting for a moment on his older sister. "Northumbria has gone through a lot these last few months. But now that the war is over, it is time for regrowth and planning for the future. My older sister, Princess Blaeja, will be queen of East Anglia and eventually have her own children."

He paused and swallowed hard and I thought that King Aelle was probably rolling in whatever grave he was in.

"I have been negotiating with Lord Pierce of Dornsaete in the kingdom of Wessex." King Ecgberht continued. "And we have come to the conclusion that his daughter, Henrietta of Wessex, shall be my bride and the future queen of Northumbria."

I blinked in surprise and quickly found Lord Pierce of Dornsaete in the crowd, as he stood up. He had been one my suitors, I remembered. I leaned to Ivar and told him that. "Imagine if I had married him instead of Kenton."

Ivar's eyes narrowed at the overweight lord of Wessex. "I would've come for you sooner." Ivar said gruffly.

Ubbe, who had been listening in, let out a loud snort as the rest of the crowd applauded politely. "He looks too fat to sit a horse, much less take another wife. He would have crushed you, Runa."

I laughed openly at that right as I caught sight of the lord's daughter, Henrietta of Wessex. The seventeen year old girl had her father's tawny colored hair and big, round blue eyes. Her hips were wide and her bosom plump, and she smiled softly at the sudden attention from everyone in the hall. She was beautiful, I thought as I glanced over to Prince Alfred.

Prince Alfred was staring at his plate, a grimace like smile on his face. I had once been close enough with my nephew to know that he was trying so hard not to look upset by this engagement news. He had met Henrietta before, and he had fallen for her hard.

Back when I was young and Pierce of Dornsaete's wife was still alive, the lord's family had come to court in Winchester quite a lot. Henrietta was a year younger than Alfred, so the two were often playing together while Aethelred playing swords with Henrietta's older brother and I merely trailed behind whoever was more tolerant with me that day. Henrietta used to be more interested in exploring and playing knights with Alfred; she had never been interested in playing the maiden in distress.

Alfred had once confessed to me that he had kissed Henrietta when they were twelve and fourteen, and that King Ecbert promised he'd see his grandson and Henrietta of Wessex married. And now, Henrietta of Wessex was betrothed to King Ecgberht of Northumbria. She'd be leaving her home of southern Wessex to the chill of Northumbria.

I felt a stab of sadness for my nephew and brought my hands together in applause for a moment before the hall settled back down.

King Ecgberht sat back down with a deep nod to Lord Pierce. The young king then gave Blaeja a nod which she returned and I saw Sigurd shift uncomfortably. Judith, sitting in a sort of space between her younger siblings, glanced between the two and landed a hard glare on Sigurd.

What had happened to that family, I wondered to myself darkly.

The reception seemed to go on forever. Hvitserk returned about a half hour later, and it looked like he had braided his hair again. The moment he took his seat beside Ubbe, all three of us stared at him.

"So what happened between you and the mother of your child?" Ubbe asked bluntly.

Hvitserk turned bright pink. "I tried to talk to her. But she can't really understand me and kissed me and I got distracted…" He trailed off and turned pinker. As if on cue, Daisy reentered the great hall, finishing the headscarf around her head and looking flushed. We looked back to Hvitserk, who had the decency to blush even more.

"You know if you plan on leaving her you should probably stop sleeping with her." I informed him. Hvitserk rolled his eyes to the ceiling just as King Aethelwulf stood from his seat, looking rather grim.

"I'd say the bride and groom have been feasted enough!" He called out and there was a cheer of approval from the Saxon guests. Sigurd blinked and Blaeja positively blanched before she got u slowly, leaving the table and heading towards the exit that would lead her to her marriage bed.

Blaeja's handmaids fell into step behind her, giggling and merry with drink. Judith got up and hurried after her sister, just as Blaeja stopped and looked around for a moment before her eyes found me.

"Augusta!" Blaeja called out, gesturing for me to come along. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Judith completely freeze, her blue eyes wide. I stammered for a moment before excusing myself and hurrying over to Blaeja. The younger girl took my hand and I could feel her hand sweating.

Judith approached slowly, as if she was suddenly unsure of her place. But Blaeja used her other hand to grab her sister and, after straightening herself, Blaeja began the march to the room she and Sigurd would lie together in.

The moment I entered the room, I remembered entering my own chambers on my wedding night. That bed had been huge as my handmaids had prepared me for what was to come. Blaeja was silent until we all entered it, and then she turned on her heel to face her handmaids.

"Leave us," Blaeja commanded. "I want to be alone with Judith and Augusta."

I risked a glance at Judith, who was pointedly not looking at me. The handmaids left and Blaeja turned back to us. "I'd just," She started, her voice finally shaking. "I'd just feel more comfortable if it were you two preparing me."

Judith recovered fast and went to find the dressing gown for Blaeja. I hesitated before putting my fingers into Blaeja's complicated hairstyle, where it was braided and coiled around her head, so that none of her hair fell past the nape of her neck. I began removing the pins keeping her hair together, unweaving the braids and rubbing my fingertips along her scalp as the pressure from having tight hair was released.

As her locks of hair fell from the braids and down past her shoulders, I remembered a vision from Heahmund's tent. The dark haired bride I had seen, had been Blaeja at this moment.

"Are you alright, Augusta?" Blaeja asked quietly. I had frozen with my fingers still on her head, and I shook myself mentally.

"I am only thinking, Blaeja."

Blaeja left it at that and shook her head to release the rest of her hair and it spilled like dark ink down her back, a stark contrast against the white gown. I clutched the pins in my hand before helping undo the buttons of her wedding gown.

For a moment, Blaeja stood naked as the gown pooled around her feet. She stepped out of it, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so to cover her breasts. Judith went to her sister and helped her dress into the dressing gown and robe while I moved the wedding dress to a chair in the corner of the room. After that, Blaeja was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in front of her, and a look of terrified nervousness on her face.

Judith and I left the room and closed the door; now all that was left was for Sigurd to come and sleep with his wife. Judith started to come with me back to the hall but stopped, looking back at the closed door.

"I'm going to stay." She said, almost to herself. "I want to…" She trailed off, as if not sure what it was she wanted to do.

"She'll be okay, Judith." I told her gently. "Sigurd won't hurt her."

Judith nodded absentmindedly, still not looking at me. I felt a pang of grief; for a moment we acted like no Viking war had happened. Like Judith and I were still friends somehow. But then Judith walked back towards the door to wait outside of it and the brief moment was gone. I bit back a sigh and left the corridor.

Even though the party was still going on downstairs, I ended up walking to a sitting room on the second floor instead. I entered the dark room and my eyes could faintly see a fireplace. It took a couple of tries, but eventually I got a fire going in the fireplace and I sat down in front of it, feeling melancholy for a reason I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"May I join you?" Aethelwulf's voice by the door didn't frighten me the way it should've. My brother's joints popped softly as he sat down on the ground beside me, and he sighed heavily as if he was very tired. "Why're you here, Augusta? Shouldn't you be down with your Vikings?"

"I wanted to be alone for a while." I replied.

Aethelwulf and I sat in silence with the only sound being the fire crackling in front of us. After a very long time, I asked him, "Do you ever think about your mother, Aethelwulf?"

"Queen Rowena?" Aethelwulf asked. "I hate to admit that I don't. Not often anyway. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking back to before I married Kenton, back when Father first told me about the match." I said, watching the fire dance around. "He talked about Queen Rowena for a moment, how he hadn't really loved her until you were born."

Aethelwulf blinked at me and then he too looked thoughtfully at the fire. "Judith and I weren't the most affectionate when we were wed. It is the way things are, Augusta. When marriages are arranged, love is the last thing on anyone's minds."

"Sigurd and Blaeja love each other, I think." I confided in him. "Or they are at least trusting of each other."

Aethelwulf looked to me with his eyebrows furrowed into a frown. "Why are you thinking of all this?"

"Because I'm thinking about leaving England." It was the first time I had really said the sentence out loud. Aethelwulf stared hard at me, looking too stunned to speak. I breathed deeply. "The sons of Ragnar, they haven't spoken to me about this choice because they all already think they know I'm coming with them. There wasn't much of a question with them; they just assumed I was going with them."

"And are you?" Aethelwulf asked, his voice urgent.

I swallowed and watched the fire some more. "If I stay, I could live here in Thetford. I could be a diplomat for Sigurd, help him gain support and treat with the right people. I could have a title here, a real purpose, Aethelwulf."

"But if you go?"

"If I go, I'd be with Ivar. And Hvitserk and Ubbe and Berglijot and the rest of them." I was pretty much talking to the flames now. "I don't know what I'd do, what my purpose would be. I don't even know if I'd ever return here to where my family lives. I'd never see you grow old, brother. I'd never see Alfred marry and have his own children and rule Wessex after you."

I finally looked to Aethelwulf and he was staring at me with understanding and hurt in his eyes. "Augusta, I have no love for any of the Vikings. I pray to God that they all burn when they meet their ends. I do not want that fate for you though. You have been a bystander to fate for your whole life, Augusta. I cannot make this choice for you."

"I know." I muttered, looking back to the fire. "I know you hate the Vikings, but Aethelwulf; when I was first captured and at their mercy, they treated me with kindness and-" I paused and watched Aethelwulf carefully. "Aethelwulf, they're my brothers now. I love them just as I love you and Alfred and Judith."

Aethelwulf frowned again, his eyes looking sad now. "If you have already chosen your fate, then why act as though you're contemplating it with me?"

I felt tears burn at my eyes and I fought to keep my voice steady. "Because I don't know how else to say goodbye to you, brother."

Aethelwulf scooted closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me into a tight one-armed hug. I hugged him back as he kissed the top of my head hard. We sat together by the fire in silence for a long time, letting the goodbye hang in the air.

When we finally separated, Aethelwulf and I stood and faced each other. I reached up and took his face in both of my hands, bringing his head down until I could press my forehead against his. Aethelwulf seemed very confused but went along with the gesture, seemingly understanding that it meant something more.

Aethelwulf left the sitting room first, and I sat back down in front of the fire until it had burned itself to embers.


	37. 37: Daisy

Kewnthirth's breakfast table was as lavish as I had imagined. The queen had invited me to breakfast to discuss the plans going forward, and when I arrived I saw that her children were all there too. I sat directly across from the queen and her younger two daughters were on either side of her.

"Berenice!" Kwenthrith exclaimed. "You're missing your mouth, my love." I watched as Kwenthrith picked up a napkin and wiped her five year old's face. The little girl was dark haired like her mother but her eyes were dark green instead of Kwenthrith's bright blue.

Kwenthrith saw me staring and smiled. "Berenice and Coventina have the same father, you know. I have heard the whispers of the courts; but there are three fathers instead of the four." I looked around the table from the younger two to the older two sitting on either side of me. Magnus was the only blond one and stuck out like a sore thumb. Verona, the oldest girl, looked familiar with her dark hair and hazel eyes.

"I wanted to ask you what sort of life my son Magnus will have." Kwenthrith finally got to the point. "As I'm sure you remember, he is engaged to a highborn Viking lady."

"I remember, your Grace." I replied evenly. I looked at Magnus and he smiled back at me. "Your Grace, the issue with marriage arrangements with Vikings is that they never truly do arranged marriages. Ubbe and I have a girl in mind, but if we go to Kattegat and tell her she is betrothed a Saxon born, half Viking who lives across the sea, she won't be compelled to honor it."

Kwenthrith nodded thoughtfully at that. "I see, Augusta. So for Magnus to truly be accepted by his Viking wife, he'd need to go there." She stopped and looked at Magnus, who was staring at his plate.

Did he have any need to say anything? We _were_ talking about his fate, his future. I glanced around at the other children, Berenice and Coventina were having their own discussion across their mother and Verona was throwing glances at me every now and then. The more I looked at her the more familiar she looked, but I couldn't place why.

"Magnus," Kwenthrith said, drawing the boy's attention to her. "What do you think? Augusta thinks you'd have to travel to Norway to marry your future wife."

Magnus blinked his blue eyes and threw me a quick glance. "Would I be able to come home? I know nothing about the Vikings and their way of life."

"Neither did Augusta over there." Kwenthrith pointed out. "And she will be going as well." She paused and looked at me. "You are going to Norway, yes?"

I sighed deeply and nodded. Kwenthrith stared at me for a moment before looking back to Magnus. "My love, we have discussed this-"

"And I don't want to go!" Magnus snapped, his fists hitting the table and causing everything on it to shake. I blinked at the sudden emotion, this being the most I had ever seen Magnus emote. I ended up making quick eye contact with Verona and she shook her head slightly at me.

Kwenthrith's eyes had narrowed dangerously at her son. She flashed me a rather large smile. "Augusta, would you mind leaving us? I will be sure to catch up with you later."

"Of course," I replied, hurrying out of the room to leave the family to deal with their own troubles. I let out a long sigh when I shut the door, wondering how Kwenthrith was going to convince Magnus to come along to Norway. Then again, she could just order him to come. Ubbe and I were going to have to think of something if we wanted Siggy Bjornsdottir to remain unmarried.

I had just made it down to the main hall when I found a cluster of thralls and Saxon servants. They kept themselves rather separate I noticed, with the Viking thralls speaking loudly about the Saxons and the Saxons trying to clean and pointedly ignoring their northern counterparts. Freydis and her redheaded friend were in the middle of laughing about something when Freydis spotted me, her eyes narrowing instantly.

Daisy was among the Saxons, and she was kneeling in order to scrub the stone floor. She straightened up, reaching around the rub at her lower back. Should she be bending over? I had no idea and decided to pointedly ignore Freydis and went over to help Daisy.

"Are you okay?" I asked the moment I was close enough. Daisy looked up at me with wide eyes, looking momentarily terrified at being addressed directly. I knelt down to sit beside her and she looked at me as if I was mad. "Should you be kneeling this much? You know, considering the baby?" I pointed to her belly.

Daisy looked down at her belly and exhaled hard. "I am fine, Lady Augusta. My back just hurts whenever I work for too long."

"How long have you been at this?" I asked, gesturing to the other servants scrubbing at the floor. "What even happened that needs this many people needs to clean?"

Daisy let out a small huff of amusement. "Lots of people walking in and out, means a lot of dirt gets tracked in. Did you need something, my lady?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I just-I've been seeing what's happening with you and Hvitserk from the outside. And I wanted to know if you needed help translating anything." I paused and groaned slightly. "I'm sorry, this made more sense in my head."

Daisy laughed again. "You are kind, my lady. And he did try to tell me something at the wedding, but it is hard when everything he says sounds like nonsense."

I thought about what the Viking language sounded like to someone who didn't understand and I let out my own huff of laughter. "It does sound like nonsense if you don't understand it." I agreed.

Daisy nodded and she paused for a moment before continuing. "My lady, you speak both languages, yes?" I nodded and Daisy shifted on her knees. "I was wondering if you would be able to help us understand each other. I wouldn't ask if I had any other way."

"I can help," I replied, giving her a friendly smile. "Come on, let's go find him." I had to help her to her feet, her belly weighing her down. As Daisy and I started to walk away, several servants and thralls watched, expressions ranging from guarded to outright confused. I ignored them and led Daisy towards the stairs that'll lead to where the Vikings usually stayed.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?" I asked, feeling silly for asking.

"I hope for a girl." Daisy replied without hesitating. When I looked confused, she smiled. "Sons of servants are ambitious and leave their mothers sooner. Daughters, they stay and help their mother as much as they can."

I frowned and felt a sharp pang of sadness. "My own mother was a servant, you know. She died when I was seven years old."

"I am sorry to hear that." Daisy said. "My parents, well, my father left before I was born and my mother died when I was around nine years. I am not entirely sure."

The moment she said her father left, I tightened my jaw and shook my head slightly. I didn't want Hvitserk to become a bad story for this girl. She was kind and laughed easily. I didn't want Hvitserk to become the Ecbert in Constance's story.

When we came closer to the sitting room where the sons of Ragnar usually sat, I had Daisy wait for me in the corridor when I entered. Hvitserk was in there along with Ivar and Sigurd. They looked up when I entered. "Hello, Augusta!" Ivar exclaimed cheerfully, immediately telling me that he was drunk. "Tell me, what do you think about the way Sigurd is turning his back on his culture?"

"We can discuss that later," I told him, running my hand through his loose and unbraided hair the moment I was close enough to him. Ivar responded by wrapping an arm around my waist and yanking me close to him. Sigurd threw a pillow at Ivar, a drunk smile on his face. Hvitserk was the most sober looking one, but he was still sprawled out on the floors carpet and watching me with bright green eyes. "Hvitserk, can I talk to you? About Daisy?"

Hvitserk immediately sobered up even more and he rolled onto his stomach and looked up at me. "Yeah, what happened? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," I replied. Ivar was now pressing his face into my side, and I absentmindedly scratched the scalp. "I just agreed to translate for the both of you so that you can figure out what you're both doing."

Hvitserk stared at me for a long moment while Sigurd gulped more wine from a flagon. Then Hvitserk nodded and stood up unsteadily. I untangled myself from Ivar with some level of difficulty while Sigurd and Hvitserk watched with different levels of amusement. When Hvitserk and I entered the corridor to where Daisy was, he paused for a moment before approaching her.

"I want to speak first, Runa." Hvitserk told me. Daisy blinked for some reason the moment she heard my Viking name. I stayed a few feet away from them, letting them have what appeared to be privacy.

"I've given it thought," Hvitserk started, and I echoed everything he said in Saxon so that Daisy could understand. "A lot of thought actually. And I'm sorry it's taken me so fucking long to come around and say this. But you can come to Kattegat with me and my family, we don't have to get married, I know you don't really want to get married anyway. But you are carrying my son, my family. You're a part of my family now, Daisy, and I think you could be happy in Kattegat with us."

When I finished echoing everything, I looked at Daisy and she was glancing between me and Hvitserk with what looked like worry in her eyes. Finally, she gave Hvitserk a slight smile and shook her head.

"I know nothing about your land or culture or language," She started and threw a pointed glance at me for good measure. I repeated her sentence and Hvitserk looked surprised when he got the translation. Daisy continued, "I have a home here, Hvitserk. I have friends and some family still. I don't want to give all that up for some frozen countryside."

Hvitserk was completely ignoring me now. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm happy here." Daisy replied once I finished translating. She reached up and cupped Hvitserk's face gently. "You wouldn't be happy here, my dear. And I wouldn't be happy in the north with you." She raised her other hand and used it to pull Hvitserk's head closer to her level and she kissed his forehead.

When Daisy released Hvitserk, she turned to me with an apologetic smile. "Thank you for translating, my lady. I'm sorry I had to drag you into this." Before I could reply, Daisy squeezed Hvitserk's hand before turning away and leaving down the hall, swaying slightly with the weight of her belly.

Hvitserk watched her go with an unreadable expression on his face. I started to shuffle away, feeling awkward, when Hvitserk suddenly grabbed my hand and started to pull me down the corridor in the direction of the stairs.

"Wha-Hvitserk?" I let out a yelp of alarm. "What're you doing?"

"Keep up, Runa." Hvitserk said gruffly, continuing to pull me along. He was walking too fast to be kept up with, so I half walked half got dragged along all the way to the room that Hvitserk had claimed as his own.

Most of the stuff he had brought with him was packed already for the journey across the sea. Hvitserk dropped my hand when we entered the room and dropped to his knees in front of a chest, unlocking it quickly. I stepped closer and gaped at the amount of treasure in it.

"What is all that?" I asked shrilly. Hvitserk glanced up at me and smirked.

"This is my cut of everything we raided, Runa." He explained. "From Northumbria to Wessex to Mercia to here."

"I thought nobody raided anything in Mercia." I said with a frown.

"I may have ignored that along with Earl Frode and a few others." Hvitserk admitted easily. "But this is only a small part of it. I paid those women to spy on the Saxons at York with this gold. You think it'll be enough for Daisy?"

I stared at him for a long moment, floored. "You're going to give all of this to Daisy?"

Hvitserk looked at it for a moment before looking back to me. "Daisy doesn't want to come with us to Kattegat, that's okay. I honestly didn't think she'd come along anyway, but I had to ask her. I tried asking her during the wedding feast, but she couldn't really understand me."

"So why give her half of your campaign money?" I asked, reaching down and picking up a rather heavy looking necklace made of what looked like ure silver and set with fat emeralds, a fortune in itself. "Where'd you even get this?"

"That I got from a jewelry chest at Winchester." Hvitserk took it back from me and put it back into the chest. "I don't know who's it was and I don't really care." He twined the necklace around his fingers, staring at it thoughtfully. "And I want to give it to her to help her with my son." He paused and his eyes flashed for a moment. "Do you know how to free servants, Runa?"

For a moment I was thrown back to when I first met Hvitserk, how cocky he had been. Now here he was, fully willing to give up half of his money to help her with their child. After locking the chest back up, Hvitserk and I took either side of the chest and heaved it back towards the sitting room where Sigurd and Ivar had been left, taking frequent breaks to rest my arms.

Ubbe had joined Sigurd and Ivar when Hvitserk and I got back downstairs. Sigurd and Ivar were both still drunk, still yelling at each other. But they were yelling about Saxon names, so I didn't think it was something that bad.

"What is that?" Ubbe asked, looking like he hadn't touched the wine.

Hvitserk ignored his older brother and stalked up to Sigurd. "I need you to free Daisy."

Sigurd slowly turned his gaze from Ivar to Hvitserk. His mismatched eyes were round and he looked very confused. "How do I do that?"

"Runa says for a servant to be let out of servitude, they need permission of whoever they serve." Hvitserk explained in a somewhat heated voice. "Daisy works in this castle, therefore she works for you. Get up and free her, Sigurd!"

The door opened again and I turned to see Blaeja enter the room. The day after her wedding, and Blaeja looked beautiful. Her long dark hair was let down and had been brushed until it shone and she looked like there had never been a time she was afraid of these men.

"What is happening?" She asked, coming to stand beside me. "I heard a lot of yelling."

"Well, Ivar and Sigurd were yelling about Saxon names," I explained. "But now Hvitserk is yelling because he wants Daisy freed so that he can provide some steady future for him and his child."

Blaeja blinked and took in the scene in front of her. Ubbe was watching Hvitserk try to yell instructions at his drunk brother, while Ivar kept trying to continue his argument with Sigurd. Then she looked to me. "I may be able to help. It happened rarely, but I watched my father free a few servants."

"That'd be great," I agreed. "Hvitserk! Help me with the chest."

Hvitserk, who had been in the middle of trying to shake sobriety into Sigurd, let go of him and picked up one side of the chest. Ubbe got up after him with a slight groan. "I'll get the other side, Runa." Ubbe said, picking up the other side so that he and Hvitserk could move faster.

Daisy wasn't in the main hall when we got down there. Blaeja and I convinced Ubbe and Hvitserk to wait there while we went and found her, and then we went downstairs to where the servants' lived.

"I've got to ask, Blaeja," I started. "A few weeks ago, you were against Daisy getting any sort of special treatment because of her relationship with Hvitserk. What changed between then and now?"

Blaeja blinked and glanced at me. "I spoke to Sigurd a while ago, discussing the differences between our two cultures. And he explained how bastard children were nothing to really be thought of back in their land. And then I thought about if I was in Daisy's position, I'd want someone to help me too. I didn't know what to do until you explained what Hvitserk was yelling about."

"That's very kind of you, Blaeja." I said. "Are you ready for tonight?"

Blaeja made a humming noise and for a moment looked like she was the opposite of ready. "Sigurd and I talked about it last night after…" She trailed off and turned very pink. "He's settled on a name."

We came into a wide room with long tables and a massive fireplace; surely where the servants ate their meals. This was where we found Daisy, sitting at the far end of one of the tables, staring into a bowl of what looked like gruel and rubbing her rounded belly. Blaeja and I gave each other a single glance before hurrying over to her.

"Hello again, Daisy." I greeted the moment we were in earshot. Daisy looked up at us and got to her feet the moment she saw Blaeja, her brown eyes wide.

"Your Grace!" She quickly knelt a little for Blaeja and she looked at me with worry in her eyes. "What can I help you with?"

Blaeja smiled kindly at her. "Daisy, how long were you serving in this castle?"

Daisy stared at her. "Since I was twelve, your grace."

"And how old are you now?"

She hesitated. "Maybe twenty two. I am not entirely sure, your grace."

Blaeja and Daisy stared at each other for a long moment before Blaeja finally sighed. "There is no official ceremony for what I am telling you, Daisy. But you are no longer in the service of this castle. From this moment on, you are a free woman and you are free to make your own choices for yourself and your child."

Daisy looked stunned. And she openly cried when we brought her upstairs to where Ubbe and Hvitserk were waiting. Hvitserk waved her over and opened the chest for her, picking up gold and silver coins and shoving them into Daisy's hands. She kept shaking her head and kept trying to refuse him, but Hvitserk kept handing her the money she put back.

"This is truly for me?" She asked softly, after several minutes of her and Hvitserk sort of passing money between themselves.

"You are welcome to live here with your child, Daisy." Blaeja told her, gesturing to the castle. "For as long as you'd like."

Daisy blinked and some tears dropped from her eyes. She stepped forward and thanked Blaeja several times, and the future queen took both me and Ubbe back towards the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder at Hvitserk and Daisy together, and despite the fact that she had grabbed his face and kissed him, it seemed more like a goodbye.


	38. 38: I Hope You're Happy

There was one more event that needed to happen before the royals from Wessex, Mercia, and Northumbria could leave Thetford. Sigurd had to convert to Christianity and be baptised with a new Saxon name to be known as king. The priest who had married Sigurd and Blaeja had been put in charge of baptising Sigurd, and once Sigurd was converted with his Christian name, he'd be officially crowned the king of East Anglia.

At dusk, a large parade of people left the Thetford castle and towards a river outside of the city walls. I walked right beside Ivar as he limped after the group. I stayed by his side as the group got farther ahead down the small and gathered around the edge of the river.

Ivar stopped limping and let out a heaving sigh. "Let's stop here, Augusta. We can see from here."

I stepped closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist, partially supporting him stand upright. "How're your legs feeling?" I asked softly. Ivar used his free arm to wrap around my shoulders and he tried not to let me see him grimace.

"Drinking this morning was a mistake," Ivar grunted. He narrowed his eyes down at the priest as the priest moved forward to the river, raising his arms to bless the ceremony. I looked up at his expression.

"You still don't like this, do you?" I asked.

Ivar shook his head. "Sigurd is turning his back on our entire way of life. Look around, Augusta, other than my brothers, there are no Vikings here."

He had a point about the lack of Vikings. None of the Vikings who stayed in the castle had wanted to come and the warriors and shieldmaidens had glared hard as we left the city. The Saxons here were all highborn, kings and their courts. I could see King Aethelwulf talking to Queen Kwenthrith, their head bent close together. Magnus was the only one of Kwenthrith's children present, finally having been convinced to leave with the Vikings. King Ecgberht and Queen Judith were holding onto each other, Blaeja right beside them. Lady Alodia was without her baby, and she stood alone and glaring at Sigurd and the priest as they spoke. Ubbe and Hvitserk stood at the far edge of this group, both of them still wearing their hard leather armor and their weapons sheathed at their sides. When the priest turned away from the river, he reached out his hands and waved for Sigurd to finally come closer.

I sighed slightly. "You do understand why Sigurd has to do this, right?"

"I understand." Ivar replied, sounding slightly defensive. "If Sigurd does not become Christian, he cannot be a real king for East Anglia. Just because I understand it, doesn't mean I have to like it."

I shrugged at that and squeezed Ivar's side a bit, causing him to jump slightly. Ivar looked down at me and smiled softly. We only looked back to the river when we heard splashes; the priest and Sigurd had waded into the river and now I assumed the priest was explaining what Sigurd was supposed to do.

Ivar was glaring at the priest and Sigurd, looking suspicious and more than a little angry about Sigurd choosing this. When the priest put his hand on Sigurd's forehead, Ivar's grip tightened incredibly on my shoulder.

"Don't hurt me, Ivar." I muttered and he immediately loosened his grip.

"I'm sorry, Augusta." Ivar started and he flinched as the priest helped Sigurd fall backwards into the river water, concealing him completely. I glanced over to Ubbe and Hvitserk, to where the two of them looked very uncomfortable. I glanced up to Ivar, who was looking just as uncomfortable as his brother.

When I looked down at the other Saxons, they all looked completely fine. This was standard baptism. Blaeja had stepped forward a little bit, so that she now stood at the edge of the water. I shifted on my feet as I suddenly noticed two more people standing at the edge of the crowd, somewhat close to myself and Ivar.

The man and woman stood beside each other, but they kept about a foot of distance between them. The man was easily recognisable, for I had been with his sons every day for the past several months and had memorized his features by being near his sons.

Ragnar Lothbrok looked younger and stronger than he had the last time I had seen him. His head was still shaven and his beard was long but his beard was no longer gray but the familiar shade of dark blond I was used to. The tattoos on his head were dark and new looking and I could see his ice blue eyes shining brightly from here. Ragnar Lothbrok was stronger looking in death than he had been when he was at the end of his life.

The woman took longer to recognize. Her long blond hair was braided and went down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, and from here I could see threads of colored leather braided into her long hair. She was also tall, just a couple inches shorter than Ragnar. Her dress was very long and she wore a cloak made of some sort of thick white fur. Her eyes were lined with thick black lines, the same way Helga had lined her eyes with kohl.

At first they were both sort of fuzzy, but the longer I stared the more in focus they became. I stared particularly hard at the woman, trying to figure out who she was. It wasn't until she finally turned her head and fixed me with a stare with eyes of a brilliant green, did I recognize her.

She had the same green eyes Hvitserk and Sigurd had. Sigurd looked alarmingly like her now that I could fully see her face, they even had the same shade of blond hair. Queen Aslaug was the image of her third son, and right now she was glaring hot daggers at me.

There was a loud splash from the river and I broke my stare with Aslaug's ghost to see Sigurd launching himself out from under the water, gasping for air and rubbing furiously to get the river water from his eyes. The priest patted him on the back and helped him to shore.

I looked back to where Ragnar and Aslaug had been, but the new king's parents had disappeared without a trace.

"All hail the new king of East Anglia!" The priest shouted at the top of his lungs, back on the shore with Sigurd kneeling beside him. "All hail King Athelstan of East Anglia!"

Athelstan, I thought. Sigurd had chosen the name Athelstan to use as his Saxon name. I smiled without thinking, shuddering slightly at the thought of ghosts watching this ceremony.

"Augusta?" Ivar's voice snapped me back. "Are you cold?"

Did I tell him that I saw his parents standing a few feet away? I had already told him before of seeing Odin in the tent...As the people below us on the hill started towards Sigurd to congratulate him, I gently pulled Ivar's head lower so that I could whisper what I saw into his ear and we wouldn't be overheard by anyone farther down the hill.

Ivar seemed shocked when I finished telling him. "You saw my mother?" He asked softly.

"She looked a lot like Sigurd," I told him. "And once our eyes met, I kind of just knew. I don't know how to explain it, Ivar."

Ivar brought me into his chest with the arm that was slung around my shoulders and he kept me tucked there tightly. I hugged him back for a moment as he spoke softly so that only I could hear. "Did you know that my mother was a volva?" When I mumbled that I didn't know what that was, Ivar explained. "A volva is a woman with the ability to make prophecies, she can see the future and try and warn us of outcomes of war. They are able to weave magic into their weavings, sometimes turning tides of battle. My mother was a volva, and I think if you saw her today, it was because she let you."

With his descriptions of volva, I had been getting nervous with where he was going with the conversation. I liked the idea that Aslaug intentionally showed herself and her husband to me, but the look on her face hadn't been friendly.

But then I felt the muscles of Ivar's arm tighten around me as he squeezed me tighter and the thought of a disapproving ghostly mother figure left my mind.

Ivar and I waited for the group of people to start coming up the hill; now that Sigurd was fully a king, the royal families could leave and go home. Blaeja had joined her husband the moment he had been proclaimed king, and Sigurd had kissed her deeply the moment she had gotten close enough. I saw Lady Alodia shake her head hard before leading the way up the hill, looking disgusted by their public display of affection.

Ubbe and Hvitserk joined me and Ivar as we waited for Sigurd and Blaeja to start walking. "I'm not calling him Athelstan." Ivar told his brothers the moment they were within earshot.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Ubbe replied. He gave a glance to Sigurd and Blaeja, where they were the last ones to leave the riverside. The other Saxons were already passing us with glances that they thought were subtle. Ubbe sighed. "It finally hit me."

"What?" I asked, looking up to Ubbe to where he stood beside me.

"Sigurd really can't come home." Ubbe said, his voice sounding genuinely sad. "He's king now. He has a wife; maybe they'll have children within the first year of living here. Sigurd already has a life set up here, and Kattegat has no place in his new life."

Hvitserk narrowed his eyes at Ubbe. "How cheerful of you, Ubbe."

Sigurd and Blaeja finally reached us and Hvitserk immediately dramatically fell into a deep bow. "All hail, King Sigurd-stan!" Hvitserk announced and Ubbe gently kicked his brother's knee.

"Shush you," Ubbe snapped. "Leave King Sigstan alone."

I chuckled along with the others as Sigurd rolled his eyes at the sky, soaking wet and wrapped in a dark gray blanket. Blaeja had twined her arm around Sigurd and she looked up at him with affection gleaming in her light brown eyes.

Our group started walking together, slow enough for Ivar to keep up easily. Sigurd and Blaeja led the group, Blaeja holding on tight to her husband and now her king. Hvitserk walked on Ivar's other side, just in case his brother needed it. Ubbe was on my other side, dwarfing me as I stood between him and Ivar.

All of a sudden, something in my mind yelled at me to turn my head and look over my shoulder. When I did, I saw Aslaug again.

Queen Aslaug was standing alone this time, and she looked much sadder at the sight of us walking away from her. Her eyes were looking at the four men walking with me, and I felt a pang of pity for her. But then I blinked and she was gone.

Early the next morning, Lady Alodia was the first to leave Thetford. She took her daughter Guinevere with her, having to leave her three year old son to be fostered here. The handmaid named Maynild stayed with him and they waved goodbye to Alodia and baby Guinevere.

Soon after them, King Aethelwulf left. I got to hug him tightly and I got to wish Alfred good luck, knowing that the next time I saw him, he could be a king. Queen Judith pointedly ignored me when she said goodbye to Blaeja and then she entered the wheelhouse without giving me a single glance.

Queen Kwenthrith stood on the side as I said goodbye to Aethelwulf, her light eyes shining brightly at Aethelwulf. Behind her stood her three daughters, with the oldest Verona holding the youngest Coventina. Aethelwulf finished his goodbye to me with a kiss on the head before going over to the queen of Mercia.

"Do you think we will see each other again?" Alfred asked me.

"I think we will." I replied. "We are both still young, Alfred. You'll be safe, right?"

Alfred huffed in amusement. "I'm a little more worried about you, Augusta."

"I'll be safe, Alfred." I said, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly. "I don't think Ivar or any of them will let anything happen to me."

Alfred smiled sadly and he pulled me into a hug. "I hope you end up happy, Augusta."

"And I hope the same for you, Alfred." I said back, holding him tightly for a moment before Alfred and I let go of each other.

Alfred left me standing there to get on his horse and I looked back to where Aethelwulf was kissing Kwenthrith's forehead goodbye. Aethelwulf gave Verona a nod and the two of faced each other, and for a moment I saw their hazel eyes meet each other.

Realization hit me like lightning. Verona had looked familiar the last time I saw her, the first real time I had gotten a look at her. Verona and Aethelwulf had matching eyes, their hair color was the same.

Kwenthrith locked eyes with me from across the way and when we met eyes I could tell that she knew that I knew. Her daughter was Aethelwulf's...Did Aethelwulf know? Judging by the way he politely nodded at Verona, he didn't.

Kwenthrith shook her head at me once, signalling me to not say anything. I blinked as Aethelwulf quickly rubbed Kwenthrith's arm and then he turned away to mount his horse.

I was standing by myself for a moment, as the court of Wessex left the courtyard of Thetford. Kwenthrith joined me at my side, looking between the retreating Aethelwulf and where Verona was going back into the castle.

"I believe I told you that I loved your brother once." Kwenthrith said quietly. I nodded slowly, watching the wheelhouse with Judith in it leave. "Your brother doesn't know. Verona doesn't know." She paused and looked at me completely. "You and I are the only ones on this green earth who know about Verona's father."

"What now then?" I asked, keeping my voice as low as hers. "Are you ever going to tell Aethelwulf?"

Kwenthrith shifted on her feet, looking nervous for the first time I had known her. "And tell him what? That he has a fourteen year old daughter? I can't see that conversation going well, Augusta. Not with his wife."

I opened my mouth for a moment before closing it. Judith had had her own bastard child, a child that Aethelwulf had accepted and adopted at King Ecbert's insistence. Would Judith be able to accept her husband's bastard when the mother was someone like Queen Kwenthrith? That kind of affair would be very public if people knew about Verona's parentage.

"I won't tell anyone about it, if you don't want me to, your Grace." I assured the older woman. Kwenthrith looked down at me and smiled softly.

"I appreciate your silence, Augusta of Wessex." Kwenthrith replied, grabbing my closest hand and holding it with both of her hands. After a moment of silence, "My daughters should all be finished packing by now. Just promise me one thing before I go."

Kwenthrith turned and turned me as well, holding onto my hand as if it was a life line. "Watch out for my dear, Magnus. He does not want to go with you and your Vikings, but he must. A boy should know about their father." She paused and looked guilty for a moment before she shook her head firmly. "Promise me you'll take care of him."

"I promise," I said, not wanting to say no to her. Kwenthrith's smile in response was grateful, and before I could think about a proper response, she moved her hands from my hands to my face and she pulled me in for a kiss, kissing me gently and deeply for a brief moment before letting me go and turning abruptly to go back into the castle. And then she disappeared and I was left alone.

Queen Kwenthrith and her daughters left a half hour later. And after them and saying goodbye several times to Blaeja, King Ecgberht rounded up his court so that they could be on their way, seeing as they had the longest journey to go.

Lord Pierce of Dornsaete had stayed behind with the Northumbrians instead of going with his countrymen from Wessex. Henrietta of Wessex stood at her father's shoulder, waiting patiently for her fiance to finish saying goodbye to Blaeja and Sigurd.

If Henrietta and her father were going to Northumbria right after this, their wedding would be fairly soon, I realized. I watched from a balcony as Blaeja gave her little brother one more embrace before the young king mounted his horse. Henrietta bowed politely to Blaeja before getting ushered into a wheelhouse, Lord Pierce getting in there with her. I thought of Ubbe's comment of him being too fat to sit a horse and I chuckled to myself before going back inside.

Now that all of the royal families were gone, the castle was a lot quieter. And tomorrow it was going to get even more quiet, I thought with a pang of nervousness. Tomorrow the Vikings finally set sail to leave England. Tomorrow, I'd be sailing to the land of the Vikings.


	39. 39: Sail

The goodbye to Sigurd and Blaeja definitely was something. The moment it was time to go, all four of the Ragnarssons piled onto each other in a massive embrace, yelling at each other with delight. Blaeja approached me slowly and she hesitated before embracing me.

"Thank you for everything, Augusta." She whispered into my ear. "If you weren't around when Sigurd and I were engaged, I haven't an idea what I would have done."

"You're still calling him Sigurd?" I asked, pleasantly surprised.

Blaeja smiled and her cheeks turned faintly pink. "I married a man named Sigurd. To the world he will be King Athelstan, but he will always be my Sigurd."

That sounded awfully familiar to something Ivar had told me when Bjorn had given me the name Runa. I rubbed Blaeja's arms and beamed at her. "Well said. You and Sigurd will be happy together."

It took a long moment for the brothers to break up, all of them trying to rub at Sigurd's short hair. When they did, Sigurd did the unexpected and rushed over to me, pulling me into an embrace and actually lifting me off my feet.

When Sigurd placed me back on my feet, he kept me a tight embrace. "You take care of yourself, Augusta. Don't let me brothers drive you mad."

"Don't let this kingdom drive you mad." I countered as Sigurd and I separated. "Thank you, Sigurd, for looking out for me this whole time."

"Not the whole time." Sigurd said with a shrug. "I admit I didn't care much about you in the beginning."

"Really? I couldn't tell." I remarked with a hint of sarcasm. Sigurd smiled at me and ruffled my short hair for a moment.

After I was done saying goodbye to Sigurd and Blaeja, I walked outside the castle to where the Vikings were milling around, grabbing the last of their belongings before heading towards the river, where the longships had been docked.

Trygve and Berglijot were carrying a chest between them, both of them looking excited to be going home. I caught a glimpse of Ingimarr and Ranveig who looked like they had already gotten everything packed and were waiting for the sons of Ragnar to be ready to leave.

Ubbe and Ivar followed me out of the castle, and Ubbe clapped me hard on the shoulder. "How you feeling, Runa?" Ubbe asked, concern in his bright blue eyes. "We're finally leaving."

I nodded. "I think I am. I don't know what to think."

Ivar's hand grabbed my hand at my side and his thumb made circles on the back of my hand. The look he gave me was one of knowing; he had woken me up last night from a particular bad nightmare last night.

It seemed the moment I fell asleep last night, Kenton had appeared. He wasn't like how he was last time, rotting and dead and screaming at me that I had murdered him. The Kenton from last night was how he was when we were married, whole and sitting beside a fire, watching it sadly.

In my dream, I had approached him slowly. Kenton watched me approach with his dark eyes and his expression was unreadable. When I got close enough, Kenton's unreadable expression turned into one of smugness.

"You forgot me more quickly than I would've dreamed, my dear." Kenton snapped.

"I didn't forget you." I had countered. Kenton snorted and glared at me.

"Are you sure, my dear?" Kenton had asked, tilting his head. "You sure got into bed with the cripple rather fast. Wouldn't you agree?"

I had shaken my head. "I chose him. If things had been different, I never would have bothered marrying you."

Kenton leaned forward in his chair as the fire in the fireplace suddenly grew hotter and more out of control. "But things weren't different, Augusta. How long will it take for you to betray your Vikings?"

That was when Ivar shook me awake because he had heard me whimpering. When I had told him the dream, Ivar had curled his lip and growled. "When will that Christian fuck's ghost leave us be?" And with that said, Ivar looped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me in, tucking me into his chest.

Back on the castle steps, Ivar was still watching me carefully, as if he half expected me to say, "Nevermind, I'm staying right here!" at any second. At his expression, I grabbed his hand and squeezed hard.

We left the city of Thetford, none of us willing to wait for Hvitserk to finish saying goodbye to Daisy. Ubbe had confidently said that it would take as long as it took for Hvitserk to fuck her one last time. By the time we reached the river where the longships were, Hvitserk was able to run and catch up with us.

Sigurd and Blaeja stood on the shore as the Vikings got into their longships, Sigurd's expression was unreadable while Blaeja was staring at the ships with wonder. I stood beside Ivar, Ubbe, and Hvitserk, unsure what we were waiting for. I glanced over my shoulder to see a small crowd of people coming over the hill, a mix of the Northmen choosing to stay and settle here in East Anglia, and the Saxon folk who lived in Thetford.

"There we are." Ubbe said suddenly, breaking away from the group and towards a longship. I watched him go to it. The ship was being brought in towards the shore, and Ubbe waded into the water to help bring it in.

Ivar looked over his shoulder and made a humming noise. "Wait here." He muttered, brushing his hand down the length of my arm before limping away. I watched him go and felt myself freeze up when I saw Heahmund being dragged by White Hair towards the boats. Ivar was limping in a hurry towards them.

"What is he doing?" I asked darkly. Hvitserk followed my gaze and swallowed.

"It looks like he's coming with us." Hvitserk muttered, sounding guilty and I immediately knew that Hvitserk had known about this before now.

Heahmund looked awful. He had been going months without sunlight and his trousers were shit and piss stained. His beard was overgrown and unkempt and his face was pale white and scrawny. He didn't look awful enough.

I turned to Hvitserk. "What do you know about this? Hvitserk?"

Hvitserk kicked at the ground before looking down at me. "Ivar's got some idea. You should take this with him."

"Believe me, I will." I snapped. "But I want to know what you know first, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk narrowed his green eyes at me and sighed. "I missed the bossy side of you, Runa. But Ivar wants to use Heahmund against Lagertha. That's all I know, I promise." He gave me a friendly smile and held a hand to his heart. "Would I lie to you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him as Hvitserk smirked, his eyes still shining playfully. I shook my head at him and gently pushed his arm, making him laugh good naturedly; it felt like forever since I had heard that laugh.

Ivar had met White Hair and Heahmund now, and for a moment White Hair and Ivar talked until White Hair dragged Heahmund onto a ship. Hvitserk and I watched as the old man tied Heahmund to the mast, completely dragging the warrior bishop around as if he weighed nothing. Ivar watched until White Hair finished tying him before turning away, starting back to where Hvitserk and I were standing, but he froze when he saw me already glaring at him.

Ivar and I stared at each other from across the distance for a long moment before I turned away, instead deciding to watch Ubbe finish bringing in one of the ships.

"You're not changing your mind right now, are you?" Hvitserk asked.

"Change my mind because Ivar is bringing that monster with us?" I rolled my eyes upwards, pretending to ponder the idea of changing my mind. "Are you afraid I'd do that?"

"Yes, actually," Hvitserk replied, elbowing my side gently. "It's still not too late for you to jump ship. All you'd really have to do is go over to Sigurd and Blaeja and not get on board at all."

"You sound like you've given this a lot of thought."

Hvitserk didn't answer, and he instead shuffled on his feet. I looked up at him before squeezing his hand with mine. "I'm not staying, Hvitserk." I told him. Hvitserk smiled slightly the moment I grabbed his hand and he freed himself only so that he could wrap that arm around my shoulders and hold on for a moment.

A cluster of thralls were escorted onto a boat by Earl Asmund and a few other warriors. I spotted Freydis in the crowd and felt grateful for a moment that the slave wasn't looking at me for once. I shifted uncomfortably and Hvitserk noticed.

"Do you have something against thralls?" He asked, his arm still slung across my shoulders.

I pointed Freydis out to him. "That one has been keeping an annoyingly close eye on me. I don't know why."

Hvitserk frowned. "I don't know that slave. I think she's one of Earl Frode's? I'm not sure, to be honest. What do you mean she's been keeping a close eye?"

"I mean whenever she and I are within eyesight of each other, she stares at me. Sometimes she whispers to a friend, if she has one nearby. I asked Trygve to keep an eye on her, just in case something was going on, but he told me a few days ago that nothing of the sort was happening."

"Maybe she likes you?" Hvitserk suggested. "Maybe she doesn't know what to think of you? It could be nothing, Runa."

"I don't know." I muttered. "I just have a very uncomfortable feeling about her."

Hvitserk blinked. "Well in that case, I can ask around some of the thralls when we land home if they know anything about her." He paused. "That is odd because I think I know almost every slave we brought with us and I don't know her."

The thralls were loaded onto Earl Asmund's ship and Freydis disappeared from my sight. Ubbe had finished bringing in the ship and he returned to us, his legs soaking wet from the river. "Right. That's our ship there, Runa. You can board now if you want. The faster we all board, the faster we can leave." Ubbe explained quickly before continuing on, commanding some spare thralls and lesser warriors to finish loading everything and get ready to set sail.

"Where is Magnus?" I asked. Hvitserk groaned slightly but was able to find Queen Kwenthrith's only son standing awkwardly by one of Earl Frode's ships. Hvitserk whistled shrilly and Magnus flinched. I pointed to the ship Ubbe had pointed out and Magnus blinked and for a moment looked green before slowly heading towards the ship.

"I don't want to bring him." Hvitserk complained.

"Neither do I, but he was the biggest part of Queen Kwenthrith's deal with East Anglia." I pointed out. Hvitserk took a few steps forward before stopping and turning to look at me. I frowned at him. "What?"

Hvitserk blinked. "Aren't you going to get on the boat?"

Oh. I stared at him for a moment before looking past him to the longship behind him. Magnus was struggling to get on board, and I could see that Ivar was already there, watching expectantly. His ice blue eyes were narrowed in on myself and Hvitserk, and he looked about ready to launch himself out of the boat if I didn't start walking towards it.

The moment my feet left this East Anglian ground, they'd most likely never touch Saxon land ever again. The thought shook me to the core and for a moment I seriously thought about taking a step backward instead, staying here with Sigurd and Blaeja and putting an ocean between myself and Heahmund.

But then I saw Ivar's hard blue eyes suddenly go soft, and I swallowed hard before slowly moving forward to the boat.

With Hvitserk in front of me, just close enough to reach out and grab onto if I had to, I was suddenly thrown back to that night last March where I followed Hvitserk into a hut with all of Ragnar's sons. Back when Hvitserk had been a threat instead of a friend, and Ivar had been a distant memory instead of a lover.

Hvitserk and Ivar both helped with lifting me into the boat and I took a moment to feel the boat shifting slightly beneath my feet. Hvitserk climbed in right behind me and I realized how small the longships were. They always seemed to be such a bigger presence during attacks and raids.

Trygve was seated at the oars and he smiled brightly at me, his small eyes squinting as he did so. I spotted Berglijot towards the back, and she too greeted me warmly before taking a seat at the oars beside her lover.

When Ubbe returned to the ship, a silent signal seemed to go out that it was time to move. I was sitting at the back of the ship next to the side as the boat left the shore and started to float downriver. I gripped the side of the boat, completely unused to the feeling of the ground rocking beneath me.

Hvitserk laughed at me, his green eyes flashing. "I completely forgot about this. Runa, you're going to be very sick."

"Thanks for the confidence, Hvitserk." I snapped. Ivar was sitting beside me and smiling to himself.

"I've missed the feel of a ship beneath me." Ivar said, almost to himself. Then he gave me a look from the corner of his eye. "But yes, Augusta; we've already decided you're going to get sick."

"When did you decide this?" I asked sharply.

"When you two started sleeping with each other." Ubbe replied as he joined our group at the back of the ship. "Sigurd still thinks you'll get sick before we reach the sea." At his words, we all looked back towards the land.

Sigurd was looking back at us. His expression was sad as he waved goodbye. But his arm was wrapped tightly around Blaeja's shoulders and he looked like he was smiling. I felt a pang of sadness as I realized that like me, Sigurd was most likely not going to see his homeland again. It was as if the sons of Ragnar had made a switch; Sigurd for me. Sigurd would likely never see Kattegat again, just as I would likely never see Winchester again.

But then the river turned, and Sigurd and Blaeja and the other Northmen settling here were out of our sight. Ubbe sighed loudly and looked like he was grieving.

It took a little over a couple of hours to get there, but the moment I got used to the gentle sway of the river water did it start to get choppy and I was warned this meant we were about to leave the river and get to the ocean.

When we finally did reach the ocean, it took my breath away.

The water was more green than blue, and the water was rougher as the waves seemed to try and keep us out of the sea. But then Ubbe, Hvitserk, and a few others released the sail and the wind seemed to grab a hold of it immediately. I was pushed backwards slightly as the longship started moving faster and Ivar was watching me react with a lazy smile on his face.

The rowers fought against the waves for several minutes as the wind kept pushing us out farther into the ocean. I kept my iron grip on the side of the boat and closed my eyes and every now and then Ivar would reach over and pat my shoulder. When the water got smoother and calmer, I opened my eyes and looked around.

Behind us was the Great Heathen Army, sailing away from England. The longships had spread out the moment they had broken free of the river, so now they dotted the horizon, blocking my view of England. I couldn't tell who was on which ship, they were all too far away for that.

When I looked straight ahead, I could see the rowers pushing us forward, the sails full of wind and pulling us along. Beyond that was nothing but blue and green; the bright blue sky without a cloud in sight and the blue-green ocean going on and on as far as the eye could see.

And somewhere beyond that horizon, was the land of the Northmen.


	40. 40: Vestfold

I flinched myself awake and for a terrifying moment, I forgot where I was. But then I felt the rocking of the longship beneath me and I heard Ivar's snoring and I sighed when I remembered the Viking longship heading to King Harald's city.

It was decided soon into the voyage that we would sail to Vestfold where King Harald kept his throne at his home village. Kattegat would be too dangerous to sail directly into, what with Lagertha still queen there. Ivar supposedly had a plan to convince King Harald to give them Kattegat back.

That was eight days ago, and at this point I just wanted to see land again.

The moon above the sea was only a half moon, but by its light I could sort of make out the other ships behind us. I sat up and turned to look at the other ships, but I wasn't able to make out any particular person from this far away. I looked to my own ship, to where Ivar slept beside me, snoring loudly. Hvitserk was a little bit away from me, muttering something in his sleep. Ubbe was awake with two other men, making sure we stayed on course towards King Harald's. The people who rowed all day today were sleeping at their seats, and they'd begin rowing again at dawn.

I looked up and sighed again. I had tried the first two nights without sleep to try and count the stars, but there were far too many to do that. But now whenever I struggled to sleep with the rocking of the ship, all I had to do was start counting stars before I soon fell asleep.

A rather large wave smacked into the front of the ship and I tightened my jaw and groaned as my stomach lurched along with the ship. I glared again at Ivar's snoring form; how could he sleep here? How could any of them? I looked back behind us and couldn't help but wonder if Heahmund was having the same trouble? On this ship, Magnus was sleeping fitfully, twitching and muttering softly. If only I could fall asleep as easily.

I laid down on my back and stared at the stars some more, trying to find the same shapes that the Greeks had found hundreds of years ago. King Ecbert had pushed Greek learning at me the moment he realized that I could be educated. I had failed miserably at maths, and could only really learn about their stories and histories when translated into Latin.

"Augusta?" Ivar's voice broke the steady sound of the ocean moving and the mutterings of the those still awake. I turned my head and looked to see Ivar staring at me, his eyes catching the dim light from the moon and glinting slightly.

"Sleep comes hard on this ship, Ivar." I explained. Ivar scooted closer and wrapped himself around me until my head rested on his chest.

"One day you'll be more used to the sea," Ivar whispered, sounding genuinely tired.

"Why are you awake?"

Ivar didn't answer right away. "A dream woke me."

"A dream of what?" I asked, and when Ivar didn't answer right away, I rolled off him to look him full in the face. "A dream of what, Ivar?"

Ivar was staring at the stars now, the pale light from the half moon washing him in silver. "It wasn't a good one, Augusta. I stood on a battlefield, dead bodies all around me, underneath me covered in blood. I saw Ubbe's body, Hvitserk's body, more bodies I didn't recognize and some I did. I was standing atop their bodies, atop your body, Augusta. Something inside me told me that I was the reason all of those people were dead; I was the reason you and my brothers were dead."

I blinked and sat up so that my face hovered over Ivar's. "It was a dream, Ivar. Just like I have bad dreams sometimes."

Ivar just stared at me, his eyes flitting around to every inch of my face. "But what of your other dreams, Augusta? The ones that are from the gods?"

"Sometimes a dream is just that." I said firmly. "You will not be the death of us, so stop thinking that way." I paused, trying to think of a way to convince him to not linger on it. "If you go into battle against Lagertha already thinking you've been defeated, then she has already won."

Ivar's eyes flashed and he reached up, tucking my short hair behind an ear. "You are too wise for your own good. Do you regret coming along?"

The first thing that came into my mind was, _yes_. I hated the way the sea rolled and slapped into the ship, I did not care for the churning feeling in my belly whenever we ventured into a rough bout of waves. My awe struck feelings I had towards sailing in the beginning of the journey had long gone away, replaced by a general dislike and seasickness.

But it was far too late to say turn around now, I thought. And Ivar's eyes were narrowed at me, sensing hesitation. I brought my mouth up into a smile. "I don't, Ivar. Really. I get to be with you and away from Christians who hate me."

Ivar's eyes remained narrowed. "That's good. I would have brought you with me anyway."

I frowned slightly at that but wasn't allowed to think of it for very long before Ivar moved his hand to the back of my head and pulled down, bringing my lips to his. I kissed him back, letting myself relax against his chest and settling back down into a lying position. When Ivar broke away, he pressed his forehead against mine and smiled softly.

"You were fated to be with me, Augusta." He muttered. "The gods knew what they were doing when they sent me and my father to Winchester."

I smiled at that thought as the ship gave another lurch as a wave hit it. "I'll be more grateful when my feet are on solid ground again." I said dryly. Ivar snorted and closed his eyes.

"Just you wait, Augusta." He muttered, and within minutes he was asleep again, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

* * *

Vestfold came into view in the middle of am early gray morning. The moment I spotted land, I felt my heart soar and an intense longing to be back on solid earth. We had been at sea for a whole month since leaving East Anglia.

I didn't give myself time to be nervous as our ship pulled up next to a dock.

Ivar, Ubbe, and Hvitserk all stood at the helm, muttering to each other and looking eager to be back on land as well. When the ship was finally tied down to the dock, Ivar looked over his shoulder to lock eyes with me and he jerked his head towards the dock, towards the Vikings' homeland. I exchanged a quick look with Magnus before leaving him and joining the brothers.

Hvitserk was already on the dock, and he ignored the crowd of locals to look up at me. "Come on, Runa." He held out his hands and I took them without hesitation, Ivar's hand on the small of my back to keep me steady. Hvitserk helped me balance as I went from ship to solid ground and I accidentally let out a yelp of alarm at the sudden feeling of steadiness underneath my feet.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Hvitserk asked with a knowing smile. He patted my shoulders for a moment to make sure I was steady before he turned with a wink and finally addressed the Vestfold citizens. I blinked in surprise as they welcomed him warmly; this wasn't Hvitserk's home village. None of the ships coming into dock were from here, and yet all around me were the welcoming cries of people bringing in the new ships.

"Aren't you going to help me down?" Magnus's question cut through my thoughts and I looked up to see him asking Ivar of all people.

Ivar narrowed his eyes at Magnus. "You are a man, aren't you?" And before Magnus could answer, Ivar lifted himself and swung down to the dock with more ease than I would have thought. Magnus stared after him, looking lost and confused.

I took a small step closer to the ship and in Saxon, "Come on, Magnus. I'll try and catch you if you fall."

Magnus blinked, looking like that was the worst suggestion I could've made. I heard Ivar snort in disbelief as Magnus carefully and gently lowered himself down onto the dock, no help from me needed. "There you go," I continued in Saxon. "That wasn't bad."

"Try to speak Viking from now on," Ivar said from where he stood. "You two are no longer Saxon."

Magnus drew himself to full height and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut of by a sudden cry. I barely had time to react before a pale blond girl raced past us and Ivar and launched herself onto Ubbe. Ubbe let out a loud grunt of surprise but quickly embraced the mystery girl and spun her around.

Ivar groaned. "Margrethe," He snapped. "Get closer, Augusta. We need to see King Harald and see what she's doing here."

I took Ivar's free arm to help him limb down the dock, where the crowd parted for him. I couldn't help but notice the heated glares I was getting along with Magnus, who kept close behind us and probably didn't want to be left behind.

King Harald wasn't that far away. Ivar disconnected from me to embrace the older man and I noticed a woman standing awkwardly behind him. The woman had piercing blue eyes and dark hair, chopped short. She had complicated tattoos starting at the top of her throat and threading down her chest. The sky blue dress she wore only made her eyes stand out more. And right now her focused eyes were narrowed directly on me and Magnus.

King Harald separated from Ivar and his eyes landed on me. "Ah, Saxon, I see you came along. It is nice to see you again."

I briefly smiled back at him. "It's nice to see you again, too, King Harald."

"I hope you enjoy your time here in Vestfold." He replied before turning back to Ivar. "I can lead you and your family back to my hall." He gestured down the street. The crowd had thinned a lot, seeing as the rest of the ships were coming in and the residents of Vestfold wanted to see the newcomers. I followed his gesture and the hall he was talking was large and perched at the top of the hill that Vestfold surrounded.

"I would also like to introduce you to my new queen," Harald continued. He took a couple steps backward and gently wrapped his arm around the shoulders of the blue eyed woman. "This is Queen Astrid, my wife and my love." He gave Queen Astrid big, wet kiss on her cheek and for a moment her eyes closed. She looked like she was shutting herself off and, despite not knowing all of the details, I felt a stab of pity.

King Harald and Ivar walked together up to the hall. Magnus practically clung to me, looking around nervously. He was still wearing his Saxon highborn clothes, and he stuck out in his brightly colored clothes compared to the blues and greens and browns of the Northmen. At least I had Viking clothes on; Magnus was clearly dressed like a foreigner. I blinked and thought about the heated glares I got just by making it through the crowd. I guessed I probably looked like a foreigner as well.

Hvitserk appeared at my side. "You two look lost. Did Finehair kidnap Ivar already?"

"Sort of." I nodded to where the king and Ivar were walking slowly to the hall.

"Don't worry about it," Hvitserk replied quickly. "I'll make sure neither of you die on the way there."

"Why would we die?" Magnus asked, not bothering to hide the fear in his voice.

Hvitserk blinked and for a moment looked hesitant to say. "Let's just say you both look Saxon. Just because you have Viking names means nothing. Trygve and his mother were slaves but he still has a Viking name."

I nodded in agreement at that and walked with Hvitserk through the town and up the hill towards the hall. When we were halfway away from the docks, I glanced over my shoulder to see Queen Astrid standing at the edge of the crowd, staring out at the ships. She seemed sad to me. I remembered thinking that King Harald wasn't married while he was in England. He hadn't been home for that long; how in the heavens did they end up together?

I looked forward again and spotted Ivar limping beside the king. I bet people thought the same thing about us. I felt a shiver go down my spine and I tightened the cloak around me as the air suddenly felt colder.


	41. 41: Belong

The hall was wide and long, a great fire pit nestled in the center with raised walls surrounding the flames. Despite the crowd outside, there were still a lot of Northmen waiting in here. They swarmed King Harald and Ivar, looking gleeful to see Ivar the Boneless walking among them. I blinked at the reaction and smiled to myself at the positive attention he was getting.

Hvitserk poked my side. "You two keep your heads on right. Don't piss off anyone. I'm going to go make sure everything of ours gets unloaded. Ubbe and Margrethe are probably fucking each other already."

That reminded me. "How did she even get here anyway? I thought she was supposed to be in Kattegat."

Hvitserk shrugged. "The new queen Astrid was in Kattegat when we left. I think Finehair made a stop between leaving us and coming home." With that, Hvitserk left me and Magnus.

Queen Kwenthrith's son looked around nervously. His blue eyes were narrowed and worried looking. I looked up at him, beginning to feel out of place now. "I think we should keep following Finehair and Ivar."

Magnus nodded at me and started that way. I went after him, noticing that the Northmen around us were watching us with narrowed eyes. I remembered what Hvitserk had said about the two of us looking like foreigners, and I wondered just how obvious it was that we were new here. Judging by the way people kept looking at us, we must have looked extremely foreign.

"We're not that different," Magnus hissed at me. "Are we? I mean, maybe our clothes aren't to their standards, but compared to everyone else I think we look similar."

I didn't have a good enough answer for him. I also wished I had a better idea rather than keep following Ivar and King Finehair. I made accidental eye contact with one Vestfold citizen and he spat at the ground before my feet. I grabbed Magnus's arm and kept him close as we moved faster.

"Saxon!" Finehair suddenly shouted. The king came over to me quickly, Ivar watching with narrowed eyes a little ways away. Finehair practically shoved Magnus away from me and gently lifting my chin up with his fingertips.

"Hello?" I said, jerking my head out of his grip and glaring at him. Finehair didn't seem surprised; he just laughed.

"Your Saxon is stubborn, Ivar." Finehair said, looking away from me to Ivar. "I'd hate to see that get broken." Ivar's eyes flashed and his jaw tightened. Finehair just smirked at Ivar before nudging my chin with his knuckles. Ivar limped over to me the moment the king moved along.

"What was that all about?" I asked, keeping my voice low enough so that only Ivar could hear.

Ivar was glancing between me and where Finehair disappeared. "He wants Kattegat, Augusta. I'll explain later." He looked over to Magnus and frowned. "What are you looking at?"

Magnus had been nervously watching King Harald the entire time, wringing his hands frightfully. But at Ivar's words, he snapped his attention back to Ivar and narrowed his blue eyes. "Is there a place Augusta and I can go? This place doesn't seem that safe."

Ivar narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Augusta is safe with me. You on the other hand-"

"Oh, would you two stop it." I snapped, putting myself between the two of them. I grabbed Ivar by the arm and just squeezed him. "Ivar, Magnus and I stick out here. You can't blame him for wanting some sort of safety. People have been watching us since getting off the boat."

"What people?" Ivar asked sharply. I made a wide gesture.

"People outside, people in here," I said. "Does it matter? So far, Magnus and I have been marked as foreigners, Ivar."

Ivar blinked and looked back to Magnus. "Tell King Harald who you are. He'll give you a room for yourself." Magnus blinked and slowly left, looking like he expected Ivar to be lying to him. I narrowed my eyes at Ivar and he shrugged at me.

Ubbe and Margrethe entered the hall, Margrethe clinging to his arm. Ivar narrowed his eyes at her, extreme dislike in his face. I reached up and pointed his face back towards me. "Hey, down here. Don't go harassing your brother's wife."

Ivar blinked at me and his mouth started to tilt up into a smile. "So long as she does not bother me, Augusta. Finehair told me that when he stopped by Kattegat, he took Margrethe and Astrid with him."

"Took them?" I echoed. "Like how you took me or how Vikings take the women in villages and convents?"

Ivar smirked at me and shook his head. "Honestly, it was probably more akin to how women in villages are taken by Vikings."

I looked back to where Ubbe and Margrethe had gone; they had made it to the high table and were sitting there now. Margrethe was resting her chin on Ubbe's shoulder as he spoke, most likely telling her about the Saxon kingdoms. I thought about how long it must have been since they had last seen each other, and I felt a flash of happiness for my friend and his wife.

Queen Astrid entered the hall then and the crowd parted for her as she moved to the high table. I looked up at Ivar. "Ivar, do your people force marriage?"

Ivar frowned down at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean if one group needed to marry someone from another town for power or status, could they force someone into marriage?"

Ivar didn't make eye contact. "That isn't unheard of, Augusta." He paused and looked at me. "You once said that marriage in the Saxon kingdoms were political. Here, although it's more rare, it can happen. Power, influence...my people are no different from yours in that regard."

I blinked at watched as Queen Astrid made it to the high table and sat in the queen's spot. King Harald had joined the table to and he gave her a big and sloppy kiss on the cheek again. Queen Astrid just accepted it and I felt yet another stab of pity for her.

"Wait here, Augusta." Ivar said. "I'll make sure Magnus found a place to rest. If not, he can sleep on the ships until we move out again." He limped off towards the table. I watched him go for a moment before looking back towards the main door. More people were coming inside, moving the welcome party from the docks to the great hall. I spotted Trygve and Berglijot enter the hall and I started weaving my way through the edge of the crowd to where my friends were at.

A sudden hand pinched my rear and I let out an involuntary yelp as I jumped out of the way. The Viking who touched me laughed loudly at my expense. As I caught a whiff of of his breath, I realized that he was most likely drunk.

"You're a pretty one." The drunkard said, breathing heavily. "Where'd they find you?"

I started to move past him but his hand was suddenly clamped down on my wrist, holding me in place. "Don't walk away from me, slave."

"Slave?" I echoed just before the man swung me against the wall.

"I asked you a question-AGH!" His threat died with a shriek of pain and he dropped my wrist and fell to the ground to where Ivar was crouching with a bloody dagger.

Ivar had stabbed the man in the shin, a look of sick fury on his face. The expression softened only slightly when he looked up at me. "Are you alright, Augusta?"

I nodded. "I'm okay, Ivar."

The furious light in his eyes died a little. I glanced up and saw a lot of nearby Vestfold natives were openly staring, looking very interested in why Ivar had stabbed a random man. From the high table I saw Finehair laughing and Queen Astrid looking slightly alarmed. Margrethe was whispering into Ubbe's ear. Ivar must've seen what happened and crawled his way over.

Ivar crawled forward and grabbed the injured man by the collar. "If I see you so much as look upon this woman, the next dagger goes through your neck." He released the man and looked back up to me before gesturing towards the high table. I narrowed my eyes at him but headed to the table, the crowd parting for me as I went.

"Now people know you're off limits, Runa." Ubbe remarked as I sat down next to him. Margrethe was watching me with narrowed green eyes.

"He called me a slave." I said. Both Margrethe and Queen Astrid looked slightly startled at the sound of my Saxon accent speaking Viking. I forgot how majority of the people here wouldn't know that I knew how to speak their language.

Ubbe, not noticing his wife's alarm at my words, narrowed his eyes and nodded. "People around here will see a Saxon and immediately think you're a slave, Runa. I think Ivar just convinced them that you're not that."

Queen Astrid leaned towards me. "You are?" She drew out the words, as if concerned that I wouldn't understand her otherwise.

I almost said that my name was Augusta, but I stopped myself before I could. I was really just Augusta to only Ivar. So I said, "Bjorn gave me the name, Runa. Ecbertsdottir." I added the last name that seemingly everyone agreed on while I was being held by Heahmund.

Queen Astrid's eyes narrowed at the Viking sounding name. "Bjorn? Bjorn Ironside gave you that name?" I nodded and the queen frowned at me.

"Runa has been our translator almost since the moment we arrived." Ubbe explained. "We were lucky we found someone fluent in both languages."

"Found her?" Margrethe asked, her green eyes still narrowed hardly at me. I blinked at the sudden hostility and Ubbe finally looked over to his wife.

"Yes, found her." Ubbe stood by his statement. "We were in Northumbria, came across an inn, and behold! There was Runa with her fellow Saxons, but she was already speaking Viking. We used her the entire war."

I nodded in agreement at Ubbe's words. Queen Astrid rested her chin on her hand, and from behind her, King Harald was watching the whole exchange with an interested gaze. "And how did you learn our language, Runa Ecbertsdottir?"

"I was lucky enough to have access to a library with scrolls explaining the language." I replied. I wasn't entirely sure why I was hiding the fact that my father had been a king. But something in my gut was telling me to keep that fact quiet. Ubbe casted me a glance and I knew that he had caught on to what I was doing.

At that moment, Ivar limped back to the high table, having gotten up to his feet at some time. He dropped down into the seat beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "She is too smart to be a slave." Ivar said, looking pointedly at Margrethe as he did. "Margrethe, I see you're well."

Ubbe had gone from relaxed to tense as he watched his brother with narrowed eyes. Margrethe couldn't seem to make eye contact with Ivar; she stared at the table top and her face was stained pink. Her hands clasped together and she looked like she really didn't want to answer Ivar. She was terrified of him, I realized.

Ivar, seemingly satisfied with antagonizing Margrethe, turned to the king and queen. "When would you be ready to march against Kattegat? I think my home has been ruled by the Usurper for too long."

"Surely you would want to rest a bit, Ivar." Finehair replied evenly. "You and your army just got here. Rest for a couple of months. Maybe take Kattegat after the winter."

Winter was still several months away, I thought. Ivar's jaw tightened and he tilted his head at King Harald. "I'd much rather be back home by winter, King Harald. The longer Lagertha sits on her throne, the more complicit the people of Kattegat become. They'll sooner forget about who their real rulers are if we wait long enough."

I had a sudden thought and opened my mouth for a moment before closing it again. I had known my position in England; towards the end of it I was considered someone to be listened to and trusted. I had no idea what my position was here with these people around me.

Ubbe suddenly slapped my elbow with the back of his hand. "What're you thinking?"

All eyes of the table were suddenly on me. I inhaled deeply before saying, "Holding the army here is a bad idea. And letting them go home is a bad idea. Some of the men and women who fought in England, if they go home they might not want to leave again to fight another war."

Ivar nodded in agreement at my words and gave King Harald a pointed look. "She is right. Let the warriors and shieldmaidens go home to their families, and it'll be even harder to get them to come back."

King Harald smirked and nodded while Queen Astrid was now staring at me with narrowed eyes. I held her gaze for a long moment before breaking the eye contact. I knew that I didn't have anything to prove with Ivar or Ubbe, or even King Harald if I was stretching it. But I did have to prove to Queen Astrid and Margrethe and the native Northmen here that I belonged with them.

I also needed to prove to myself that I belonged here.


	42. 42: Worry

King Harald was sure to give us rather comfortable rooms. The bed in ours was large and covered in furs from wolves, otters, and the occasional bear. I sat down on the edge of the bed for only five minutes when Ivar removed the braces from his legs and was looking at me with undisguised lust in his face.

"Ivar," I said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I have been thinking about your body since we left England, Augusta." Ivar said in a dark sounding voice. "I've been wanting to fuck you for weeks."

I leaned back slightly, pretending to be taken aback by his bluntness. "Well then." I started to get up, sliding the cloak off my shoulders.

"No, no." Ivar snapped. "Keep your clothes on. I want to tear them off."

With that said, I tilted my head at him and listened to what he said. But when he had removed his shirt, I made direct eye contact with him and spread my legs wide and in his direction, lifting the hem of my dress up so that he would be able to see my exposed cunt. Ivar looked from the spot between my legs to my face, chewing on the inside of his mouth.

"You want to fuck me so badly," I said. "Then get over here."

Ivar didn't say a word. He crawled over to me the way he always crawled, a look of hunger on his face as he got closer. When he reached me, he used his hands to spread my legs even more, tossing one of my legs over his shoulder. When his tongue dragged along my sex, I shuddered and yelped and Ivar's hand reached up and grasped at one of my breasts. I grabbed a fistful of his dark hair and pulled. Ivar looked up at me, his mouth wet.

"Fuck me already," I breathed. Ivar grinned wolfishly at me and lifted himself up, laying down beside me on the bed. I undid the string on his pants and, with a gasp, let him inside of me. Ivar moved his hips as I grinded down against him. Ivar's hand shot up and grabbed a hold of my neck, pulling my head down so that he could kiss me. "Cum inside me." I growled in between kisses.

When he did, I let out an involuntary squeal and Ivar laughed, his eyes burning bright. I rolled off of him, feeling some of his seed dripping down between my thighs. I laid down on my back beside him and Ivar was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Are you trying to have a son with me?" Ivar asked, panting slightly.

I let out a snorting laugh and shrugged. "I'm not in any rush. Why? Would you?"

Ivar rolled so that he was half on top of me. "I think I'd want to be king before having sons. I want my sons to be kings after me. Once Lagertha the Usurper is dead, then I will put my sons inside of you."

I blinked at him. "What if I give you a daughter instead?"

One of Ivar's fingers was tracing my jawline. "Then our daughter will become queen after me. No matter what we have one day, Augusta, I will raise them to be fierce warriors and leaders."

These words echoed around my mind as Ivar fell asleep. From farther in the house, I could hear Ubbe and Margrethe having loud sex. Ivar started snoring rather loudly and I sighed heavily, I thought about the possibility of having a child, and chewed on the inside of my mouth. The last time I thought about children was right after my marriage to Kenton.

The moment I started to fall asleep, I fell into a deep sleep almost instantly. And the moment I realized I was asleep, a gust of wind smacked me in the face and I squinted my eyes back open.

An ice cold chill went down my spine and my surroundings were like nothing I had ever seen before. The sea in front of me was light gray, mirroring the dark gray sky sky above it. The water was rough and the waves crashed onto the shore hard. A strong wind blasted me in the face, making me take a couple of steps backwards. I glanced down and froze when I saw the sand.

The sand was black.

I looked around the entire beach, and the black sand stretched for as far as the eye could see in either direction. Farther inland, tall mountains seemed to touch the sky. The wind tugged me towards the mountains, so I started to walk on the black sand beach. I didn't have to go that far before I saw a lone figure standing just a little farther away. I started towards them. When I got close enough, I realized that it was Odin.

I stopped walking for a moment, instincts driving me to my knees and I knelt the moment I realized it was Odin. Right when I broke sight of him, it suddenly felt as though someone was standing right in front of me.

"Rise." The gravelly voice I knew was Odin's sounded painfully loud right in front of me. As I rose, I thought about how his voice sounded vaguely like King Ecbert's. I drew myself up to full height and I looked up to see Odin staring at me full in face.

"Rise." He said again. His hands raised and I saw that they were tattooed as well as the side of his face. Odin's fingertips gently touched my temples and I felt my eyes roll backwards into my head.

Visions flew in front of my eyes. The full moon being overtaken by red light. Then the sun being swallowed by a black light, white beams of light swinging out from behind the black mass. A fleet of ships sailing towards a green island. A fishing boat off the coast carrying guards and a man with his hands tied behind his back, too far away to discern any faces. A village on fire with men, women, and children burning.

The moment Odin removed his hands from my face, I saw no more visions.

"What are those?" I asked without thinking.

Odin blinked his one eye. "Things to come. Things that will shape your days to come."

"Then why show it to me?" I asked. "Why me?"

"It is not your place to question my will." Odin remarked. That signaled the end of our conversation, because I blinked and when I opened my eyes again, I was laying on my bed in Vestfold with Ivar snoring loudly beside me.

I sighed heavily and rolled over, getting out of bed and moving silently to the window. The moon outside was half full, nowhere near as full as it was when it turned red. I felt a shudder of fear go through me; was the moon actually going to be swallowed by a red light? Was the sun going to be swallowed by darkness?

Satisfied as I could be with the state of the moon, I got back into the bed. Ivar snored extra loudly in his sleep and stretched, not waking up. I watched him for a moment before burying myself into the blankets, praying for a sleep without anymore prophetic dreams from gods.

The next morning, the main hall was filled the hungover and sleepy Northmen. Ivar was already awake and sitting at the high table by himself, food sitting in front of him. I started towards him but ended up stopping when I spotted Hvitserk sleeping on one of the lower tables.

"Hvitserk?" I asked. He flinched himself awake and looked up at me with sleep filled eyes. "Did you sleep here?"

"Maybe." Hvitserk said, his voice cracking with tiredness. "I think I'm still drunk."

I shook my head at him. I walked forward and just held on his face, my hands on either side of his face. Hvitserk closed his eyes and hummed slightly. "Wake up." I ordered. Hvitserk squinted at me.

"No." Hvitserk said. I patted his face and removed my hands.

"You need to redo your braids." I pointed out. "There will probably be a war meeting today."

Hvitserk nodded, reaching up and scratching at the loose braids. He glanced towards the high table and frowned. "Isn't that your mystery slave?"

I followed his gaze and saw Freydis setting a plate of what looked like sausages on the table in front of Ivar. She didn't leave. Hvitserk and I watched as she leaned forward towards Ivar, and he looked up at her, eyebrows slightly raised.

"That's her." I confirmed. Hvitserk looked between me and Freydis as she moved around the table to get closer to Ivar.

"What the fuck?" Hvitserk muttered. I swallowed hard, unable to explain the feeling of unease I suddenly had.

Freydis was standing besides Ivar's chair, and he was frowning slightly as she spoke, bent slightly to better get to his ear. Ubbe joined me and Hvitserk and quickly followed our gaze to see Freydis speaking to Ivar in a hushed tone.

It happened before Ubbe could even ask what was happening, Ivar lashed out and the back of his hand struck Freydis hard across the face. She fell to the ground hard and Hvitserk flinched as she hit the ground. Ivar glared at her for a long moment before turning to the plate of sausages she had brought originally.

Freydis remained on the ground for a moment before she crawled away from the high table. When she was a few feet away, she got to her feet and walked away, holding her hand to where Ivar had hit her. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and I watched her until she was gone.

"What the fuck just happened?" Ubbe asked.

"I was wondering the same thing." I said.

"I thought she was trying to seduce him for a moment." Hvitserk said. I shot him a look and Hvitserk shrugged at me. "Clearly didn't happen, Runa. Besides, I don't think Ivar would sleep with someone else. He likes you too much."

I blinked at that and sighed slightly. Ubbe slapped my shoulder briefly before heading towards the high table, swiping a roll of black bread before taking a seat. I looked back at Hvitserk. "Fix your braids, Hvitserk." I muttered at him. He blinked at me and gave me a small smile.

"There's no way Ivar would put you aside for anyone else, Runa." Hvitserk said matter of factly. "Don't worry about it."

"The thing is I wasn't worrying about it until I saw her talking to him."

"Well stop." Hvitserk countered firmly. "Go eat food and I'll fix my braids for you." He got up, stretched, patted my shoulder once before leaving the hall. I watched him go before heading up to the high table.


	43. 43: The Wars to Come

I asked Ivar why he had hit Freydis that morning, and his eyes flashed. "She tried telling me that my legs make me favored by the gods." Ivar told me, genuinely angry. I frowned at him and he explained. "This isn't the first time she tried telling me these things. When you were gone because of the bishop, that slave told me that the gods had blessed me for greatness."

"Because of your legs?" I asked.

Ivar nodded and shot a glare at where Ubbe was sitting nearby. Ubbe was doing his best to pointedly ignore his younger brother. Ivar looked back to me and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer so that he had less of a chance of being overheard. "I believe that the gods chose me for greatness, but I do not think my legs are a sign of it."

When Hvitserk returned to the high table, his braids were indeed redone and cleaner looking. Hvitserk started to take a piece of black bread and greasy sausage and eat the two together. By the time he sat down on the other side of Ubbe, King Harald stalked into the hall and came towards us.

"Wait here." Finehair snapped at us. Before anyone could do anything, King Harald turned to the rest of the hall and bellowed, "Get the fuck out! All of you, wake up and get out!"

The stragglers laying around the hall slowly got up and left the hall. King Harald grabbed one man by the scruff of the neck and ordered him to go find the earls and bring them to the hall. I exchanged a glance with Ivar; I guessed the war meeting was going to happen right now.

Queen Astrid entered the hall, a look of annoyance on her face as she watched her husband. Every now and then King Harald would throw a glare at her but they said nothing to each other. As the stragglers filed out of the hall, Margrethe entered from the back rooms, her bright eyes finding Ubbe almost immediately and she hurried over.

"Hello, my love." Margrethe said cheerfully at Ubbe. Ivar made eye contact with me and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. I shook my head at him as Ivar pointedly ignored Margrethe. King Harald came back to the high table and grabbed a wedge of cheese, throwing Margrethe a sharp look.

"Can't be in here, girl." King Harald said bluntly, popping the cheese into his mouth. Margrethe looked at the king with surprise.

"Excuse me?" Margrethe asked.

"War meeting is about to begin." King Harald explained. "Last time I checked, you weren't an earl or a leader of any kind. Get out."

Ubbe straightened in his seat. "Finehair, Margrethe has some ideas that-"

King Harald glared hard at Ubbe. "Your wife is not a shieldmaiden and she's not a war strategist."

"I have lived in Kattegat under Lagertha's rule." Margrethe snapped.

"So did my wife." King Harald retorted, throwing a glance over his shoulder at where Queen Astrid was standing, glaring hard at the conversation. Margrethe's eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened.

King Harald turned towards the table and noticed me sitting there. I raised my eyebrows in question at him, silently asking if I needed to leave too. Finehair frowned for a moment before grabbing more food. "You are a wartime strategist, Saxon. You stay."

The look of fury on Margrethe's face made me blink. Ubbe opened his mouth but closed it again. King Harald left the table and went over to Queen Astrid, muttering something to her. Margrethe looked between the king and me, looking more frustrated and angry with the whole situation the longer the king ignored her.

Ubbe looked up at Margrethe. "I'm sorry." He said simply. Margrethe threw him a dirty look before stalking off. "Margrethe!" Ubbe called after her. She ignored him and left the hall all together just as some of the earls entered the hall. Ubbe watched her go and sighed heavily.

"What're some of her ideas?" I asked.

"She told me about how Lagertha has become unsure about her leadership." Ubbe explained. "Margrethe would question Lagertha's leadership and Lagertha threatened to cast her down into slavery again. Margrethe was telling me that if we use that insecurity against her, we could bring her down from the inside."

"From the inside?" Hvitserk echoed.

The conversation got put on hold as all of the earls finished coming in. They took seats on the tables as King Harald took his throne. Queen Astrid took her throne beside him, still looking angry and uncomfortable. I remained at the high table with the sons of Ragnar.

Earl Asmund was the first to stand up, the older man looking frustrated and tired. "I know we have the fight the war against the Usurper, but I have wives and children at home, Finehair. We just got done fighting a war; I'd like some time before going to the next war."

Earl Frode let out a massive laugh. "No offense to you, Earl Asmund, but that is coward's talk! I too have my wives back home, but I know that they would all be disappointed in me if I returned home when there was fighting still to be done."

Asmund whipped around to glare at Frode. "Lagertha has had a long while to plan for our attack-"

"Exactly!" A familiar earl from Denmark shot to his feet. "If we let her plan any longer, she has a better chance of winning."

The earls all started yelling at each other, and it got hard to keep track of who was yelling what. It seemed like the hall was evenly split between going home and resting for the winter and going straight to Kattegat to weed out Lagertha.

I leaned towards Ubbe, "How did Margrethe plan on using Lagertha's insecurity against herself?"

Ubbe stood up at my question and relayed Margrethe's plan to the rest of the earls. Queen Astrid's face in particular was intrigued. Ubbe continued, "For this plan to be put into action, someone would need to go into Kattegat and bring us information from the inside."

There was an uproar at this suggestion.

"How did your wife think this would go?" Earl Asmund asked. "Who would be the one to do this? Lagertha knows us all; she knows our faces. And I wouldn't trust this kind of mission to a commoner."

The crowd started muttering to each other before I made accidental eye contact with King Harald. There was a moment in which we just stared at each other, but then Finehair's eyes flashed and I got the thought in my head that the king had just gotten an idea.

The meeting ran itself in circles for hours. Thralls came through with plates of food towards the end of it. Freydis was among them, a big red welt on the side of her face where Ivar had struck her. Ivar's eyes narrowed at her as she walked among the earls. I watched Freydis move around, how she was keeping her eyes strictly away from where we sat at the high table.

When the meeting finally ended, the earls left in a huff, all of them sounding annoyed that there was no agreement after a few hours of going back and forth. Ivar was leaning back in his seat and looked like he was about ready to fall asleep. Hvitserk had his forehead pressed against the table's edge.

I got up and stretched my legs. "That was fun." I muttered.

"You know what this means?" Ubbe asked, getting up as well. "Meetings until we can all agree on something."

"Oh joy," Ivar said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Queen Astrid left the hall, heading back towards her room. King Harald watched her go before approaching the high table. "If we keep debating, winter will be here and gone before we come to a decision."

"True." Ubbe agreed. "But we can't attack Kattegat with half an army. Not when Lagertha has her own army of allies, not to mention Bjorn and his."

Hvitserk looked up. "Bjorn?"

"Bjorn will come to his mother's defense." Ubbe pointed out. "The same way we are going to our mother's defense. If we threaten Lagertha, Bjorn would not hesitate to stop us."

Ivar and Hvitserk exchanged a look and I shifted on my feet. King Harald kept glancing at me and I didn't like the looks he was giving me. I finally looked at the king full on. "Yes, your Grace?"

Finehair smirked and leaned against the table towards me. "Lagertha the Usurper would recognize any person in this room. Everyone except you, Saxon."

"No." Ivar said immediately.

"I didn't hear a better idea, Boneless." King Harald retorted. "Make your Saxon useful. We send her into Kattegat, she opens the gates for us and we take Kattegat back without much of a battle, before your oldest brother can get to his mother."

"The Saxon is standing right in front of you." I said sharply. King Harald cast me a pointed look and raised his eyebrows at Ivar. I blinked at him. "How would I even get into Kattegat? I didn't say I was doing it!" I snapped as Ivar as the other sons of Ragnar all started to argue with me. "I was just asking a question."

King Harald was the only one who looked excited about this idea. "Kattegat is a big enough to where refugees would go there seeking shelter and help from their queen."

"Why are we talking about this if it's not happening?" Ivar snapped. I glanced between them and narrowed my eyes at the king.

"Act as a refugee to get inside," I started. "And then what? How does a refugee get close to the queen?"

"That would be for you to find out, Saxon." King Harald replied, a wolf like smile spreading across his face.

"That's enough!" Ivar snapped. He got to his feet, his braces barely keeping him balanced so he had to hold onto the table. I reached out and helped steady him, and Ivar was glaring hard at the king. "She's not going to be thrown to the Usurper. Not again."

He was thinking of Heahmund, I realized. The last time I left to go on a mission, Heahmund had trapped me and tortured me for two months. If I was caught by Lagertha, the price could be much higher. Hvitserk shot Ubbe a very quick glance and I couldn't help but notice that Ubbe stiffened considerably.

King Harald met Ivar's eyes. "I understand your fear, Ivar Ragnarsson. But your Saxon is-"

"She is not just a Saxon!" Ivar snarled. "I think of this woman as my wife and you will not throw her to that fucking cunt of a queen because it's the only option available."

Finehair tilted his head at Ivar, looking bemused. "She's not your wife, Ivar."

"Finehair!" Ubbe snapped. The king just shrugged and walked away, a shit eating smirk on his face and an air of amusement around him. I watched him go with the rest of Ragnar's sons, a fuming Ivar on my arm and a stricken looking Ubbe and Hvitserk on my left.

"How dare he?" Ivar spat, shrugging me off so that he could limp away from the table. I watched helplessly as he started to pace, sheer rage on his face. Ubbe and I looked at each other nervously as Hvitserk followed Ivar's lead and shadowed his younger brother, looking prepared to catch Ivar if he suddenly lost balance and fell.

"It wasn't his place to suggest you for that role, Runa." Ubbe said to me in a low voice. "If you went, you'd be risking your life for our cause."

"Our cause." I corrected him. "I'm here now, Ubbe. Your fight against Lagertha, is my fight against Lagertha."

"You shouldn't have to." Ubbe insisted. "You never knew Aslaug. This isn't your war."

I shook my head at him. "It became my war when I agreed to come with you all. I knew the risk, Ubbe, and I'm here now. Whatever I can do to help, I-"

"You will not!" Ivar full on shouted. He stopped his pacing and glare viciously at me, Hvitserk standing a couple of feet behind him. "Getting tortured and killed by Lagertha is not your choice to make!"

I glared right back at him. "Who says I'll get tortured and killed by her? And also, whose choice is it to make then, Ivar? I would think it'd be mine."

Ivar's ice blue eyes flashed. "You know what I mean, Augusta. The last time you left to talk to another leadership, that bishop hurt you. That bishop hurts you still! I won't let Lagertha get the same opportunity."

"Would Lagertha really kill me if she found out who I was?" I asked.

Hvitserk managed to answer before Ivar. "More than likely she'd use you as a pawn against us. Hold you hostage and the like."

I gave Ivar a raised eyebrow. "See there, Ivar: I won't die."

"Are you really thinking about going?" Ivar asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Yes. No. I don't know. What are the alternatives? There doesn't seem to be a lot of options when it comes to what to do. And if I went, it'd be an excuse for the army to go to Kattegat instead of dispersing and going home."

Ubbe looked to Ivar. "Even if she did go, Ivar, she wouldn't go alone. There are plenty of foot soldiers Lagertha doesn't know personally or would recognize."

"Then why not send them instead of her?" Ivar asked dryly.

Footsteps sounded and Margrethe entered the hall, a curious expression on her face. "Lagertha doesn't trust men a lot anymore." Margrethe piped up. We all stared at her as she stood at the edge of the group, her green eyes taking in how Ubbe and I were standing close to each other.

Margrethe continued. "When King Harald took me and Astrid from Kattegat, Lagertha's inner circle were all women. Astrid, myself, Siggy, and Torvi were with Lagertha nearly every day. Astrid and Torvi were literally with her every single day. Svanhild used to be always there, until the war in England happened. Now that the war's over now, Svanhild is probably a shadow of Lagertha's now."

"Svanhild would recognize me." I pointed out. "She knew who I was and she knew the name Bjorn gave me."

Ivar looked pleased with that for a good moment, until Hvitserk said, "Svanhild would have to meet us in battle. She's Lagertha's most trusted shieldmaiden." Ivar threw a dirty look at Hvitserk, who just shrugged at his younger brother.

There was a long moment of silence before I said, "There's no rule saying that I'd have to interact with Lagertha. I could just stay inside Kattegat and figure out a way to let the army inside. I don't need to brush shoulders with Lagertha to do that."

Ivar was watching me and narrowed eyes. Ubbe seemed to be on board with the idea of me going to Kattegat, while Hvitserk was the one who bounced back and forth. Margrethe was still glaring hard at me and I took a side step away from Ubbe.

I sighed heavily and looked directly at Ivar. "Look, I'm not saying I'm going to do this. It's not like I'm already packing and have to leave tomorrow. But this is something I think I could do. Last war, I had a role: I translated and told you all about Saxon customs. What is my role here?"

Margrethe was staring at me as if I was speaking gibberish. But Ivar's gaze had softened just a bit and he looked more angry with what I was saying than with the idea of me going. Hvitserk scratched the back of his head and Ubbe looked thoughtful.

The conversation about this plan was put on hold for the next few days. No one in our group really wanted to talk about it, but the more ineffective war meetings that went by, the more the idea grew and became something that seemed physical. It was getting harder to ignore it the longer these meetings continued.

One day, after the fifth war meeting, Ubbe sprang to his feet and turned to me. "You. Come on."

"What?" I asked, off put by the bluntness. Ubbe grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet.

Ivar was watching Ubbe with narrowed eyes. "What're you doing, Ubbe?"

"I've got an idea." Ubbe said vaguely, getting up from the table and walking away. I glanced between Ubbe and Ivar before shrugging and following Ubbe.

"I'll find you later." Ivar said to me as I left. I nodded at him and hurried after Ubbe.

The older man led me through the city of Vestfold, a determined look on his face. When I caught up to him and looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, where are we going?"

"If you end up going to Kattegat without us," Ubbe said firmly. "You'll need to know how to defend yourself a bit."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Ubbe didn't explain more until we were in a clearing outside of Vestfold. Ubbe bent down and picked up two long wooden swords from the ground. "I found these yesterday. Children use these to practice swordsmanship. I thought these would be better to use than actual swords."

I blinked at him. "Ubbe, I'm not a fighter."

"You've never tried, yes?"

I thought about the Saxon I ran through while returning to York, the way the light had gone from that random man's eyes. I thought about Kenton's thrashing body trying to fight me off as I killed him and I swallowed the bile that had started to rise in my throat.

"I don't think I need to try it."

Ubbe tilted his head at me, beginning to look annoyed. "Come on, Runa. If you're completely willing to go to Kattegat to deal with Lagertha, you'll need to know the basics of defending yourself with a sword. Lagertha is a seasoned shieldmaiden, one of the best in fact."

"Well, in that case I don't think my sword skills will hold up against her." I remarked dryly. Ubbe narrowed his eyes at me and tossed one of the wooden swords to the ground in front of my feet.

"Pick up the sword." Ubbe said, tossing his own wooden sword between his hands. I eyed him for a moment before leaning down to pick up the wooden sword near my feet-

Ubbe let out a grunt as he charged at me. I yelped and lifted the sword just in time for his to smack against it. But Ubbe swung back, side stepped, and swung the sword quick as lightning and the wooden sword smacked against my wrist.

"Ow!" I yelped, nearly dropping my sword. Ubbe swung at my head again twice and I was only able to block the first blow. Ubbe stopped the sword right before hitting my neck, smiling.

"Not bad for a first try." He said, finally lowering the sword.

"You didn't teach me anything before attacking." I pointed out, panting slightly.

Ubbe shrugged. "Enemies don't tell you when they are going to attack. Your instincts aren't that bad; you blocked me a couple of times. I think in a few months maybe, you'll be able to fight me off for real."

I was not a good swordsman. The more time Ubbe and I sparred, the less amount blows I was able to block. By the end of the lesson, there got to be a point where Ubbe could just bat me around with the flat end of the wooden sword. Halfway through, I heard laughing and saw Ivar and Hvitserk watching the lesson. Ubbe took the opportunity to whack my shoulder and make me drop the sword.

After about three hours, Ubbe finally decided that enough was enough. "We need to practice more for you to get better."

I was holding my bruised wrist. "I told you I wasn't a fighter." Ubbe smiled brightly at me and I shook my head before smiling back at him. Ivar and Hvitserk were applauding from where they sat at the edge of the field.

"Good effort!" Hvitserk called out as Ubbe and I went towards them. Ubbe looked fine, I however, felt my hair clinging to my forehead due to sweat. Ivar was sitting on the ground and he looked up at me with a smirk on his face.

"Good job, Augusta." Ivar said with a smile. "You're a better translator though."

"Thank you, Ivar." I said, heaving a sigh. Ubbe rolled his eyes at me but looked like he had been entertained by training me, even though I was awful at it. Hvitserk helped Ivar back to his feet, and I helped steady him once he was standing. As we walked back to Vestfold, I noticed how the mood of Ivar in particular was lighter, better than it had been for the last few days.

I smiled to myself as I realized what Ubbe had done. He had distracted his younger brothers and myself with training me for a day. He had taken everyone's minds off the conflict of the upcoming war, and what could come with it. I sighed again and hoped that something as simple as a training session could distract us again from what was to come.


	44. 44: You're My Home

"If I were to go to Kattegat," I said loudly. Ivar groaned from the other end of the room. I combed my fingers through my growing hair and watched him through narrowed eyes. "I could help you end this war faster."

"How so?" Ivar asked, even though he had heard a lot of this in the war meeting this morning. Rumor had gotten out about the idea of sending me to Kattegat to open the gates from the inside. Every single earl who wanted to continue with the war was supportive, anxious to get the war on the road. The other half were rather skeptical.

"No offense to you, Ecbertsdottir," Earl Asmund had said. "But I think an unfamiliar Saxon face suddenly amongst those at Kattegat would draw attention. You simply look too foreign to blend in."

I went over to where Ivar was sitting on the other side of the room. Before speaking, I got onto our bed and laid down on my belly, resting my chin on my hands. "Well, say the army starts for Kattegat. I march with you, and then go ahead. I pretend to be a refugee looking for sanctuary in Kattegat. Then while the army lays siege to the city, I figure out a way to open the gates and let you all in."

"How would you do that if you've never been to Kattegat?" Ivar asked, not looking at me.

"I learn all about it from you and Ubbe and Hvitserk." I replied evenly. I ran my fingers through my growing hair and held the ends out to where I could see. "My hair is getting longer."

"It is." Ivar agreed, still not looking. I inspected the ends of my hair. It had been close to eleven months since Heahmund had sheared my head. Almost a year ago, I had been taken by the Saxons. Now my hair was grown out to my chin, once it was all straightened out. I had never known my hair to curl before, but the ends had a habit of curling out and away from my face.

"Do Northmen ever have their hair this length?" I asked.

"Not particularly," Ivar replied, beginning to undo the braces on his legs. "Why do you ask?"

I pulled at my hair again, "I'd need an excuse for it if I went to Kattegat."

Ivar leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Augusta, you are the most stubborn person I've ever met." He turned and finally looked at me, and he looked at me for the first time. He sighed. "Why do you want to go so badly?"

"I don't want to go," I said. "But Ivar, please understand, I don't have much of a role here. You are a warlord, you and your brothers. You all are active in this war. No offense Ivar, but I did not follow you across the sea to sit idle."

"You could have stayed in England and done that." Ivar added, his expression thoughtful. He bent down and continued removing the braces from his legs. "Can you come over here and help me?"

I got up from the bed and stood behind the chair he sat in. He sat up and faced forward as I removed the leather cord holding his braids together. I put the cord elsewhere and began to weave my fingers through the braids, unweaving them slowly. The braids, once undone, were a mix of dark and light brown, the light coming from where Ivar spent so much time in the sun. I rubbed some of his hair in between my fingers and finished unbraiding. His hair was long once it was let loose. I ran my fingers through his loose hair and a sudden wave of emotion hit me. I bent down and pressed my forehead against the top of his head, breathing in the sweat and scent of oil.

"I don't want to go, Ivar." I repeated myself.

"I know you don't." Ivar muttered, his voice barely audible. He reached up and his hand gently rubbed the side of my head. I squeezed my eyes tightly as tears threatened to fall. "Please come in front so I can see you?"

I lifted my head and rubbed at my eyes before coming around in front of him. Ivar grabbed my waist and pulled me close, pressing his face into the spot below my breasts. I rubbed the back of his head and set my jaw, really trying not to cry. Ivar wrapped his arms around my waist and held on tightly, his strong arms locking me in place. I couldn't move even if I wanted to, and Odin knew that I didn't want to.

"I wouldn't want you to stay behind when we invade, Augusta." Ivar said into my stomach. "I wouldn't want you in Kattegat either. I want you by my side always. But I know that's not possible." He stopped and looked up at me, looking straight up since I was standing so close. "I fell for you because you were different. No other woman had looked at me the way you had. No other woman would be brave enough to follow me across the sea. Can you sit?"

"On your legs?" I asked uncertainly. "I don't want to hurt you, Ivar."

"You can't hurt me this way." Ivar said simply. I carefully lowered myself until I was on his lap. Ivar kept a arm wrapped around his waist, and now he rested his head right above my breasts. "I want to hold onto you as long as I can."

"You're surprisingly tender hearted." I commented, attempting to make light of the situation. Ivar smiled and squeezed his grip on me a little tighter.

"Don't tell anyone," Ivar muttered. "That's something I want only you to know."

I hummed slightly, smiling sadly. "I've been keeping this secret since we met. Your brothers have no idea."

Ivar paused before letting out a huff of amusement. "Margrethe thinks you mad apparently. Ubbe told me this morning. Apparently she cannot imagine why you and I would be together."

I snorted and kissed the top of his head lightly. "I wouldn't want to be with anyone else." I mumbled. Ivar's arms tightened even more around me.

When we had sex that night, it was slow. Ivar took his time with everything, from licking my sex slowly and deliberately to kissing and nipping at the tender spots of flesh on my belly and right below my breasts. He left several light red bruises around my body, bruises that I knew would darken and turn purple later, to match the bruises from sword lessons with Ubbe.

I slept as close to him as I could that night, and no prophetic dreams came to me when I finally did fall asleep. When I woke the next morning, Ivar was already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What're you doing?" I asked groggily, my voice heavy with sleep. Ivar glanced at me before patting the spot right beside him. I moved over towards him, feeling my back pop slightly from the movement. I sat down beside him and rested my head on his shoulder.

Ivar sighed heavily and didn't say anything, just leaned down to grab a bit of clothing from the floor. I watched with narrowed eyes as Ivar dug in a pocket for a moment before dropping the clothing again and grabbing my hand with his free hand. He glanced nervously at me and I had enough time to look down and see what he was doing before feeling a cold, metal ring being placed on my finger.

"Ivar?" I barely got his name out before Ivar twined his fingers with mine, his thumb brushing against the ring.

"If you must leave to go to Kattegat," Ivar said quietly. "Please leave as my wife." He hesitated before saying, "I love you, Augusta. I want you by my side always, but...but I know who you are. All I ask is that you officially be my wife, share my food and drink, carry my sons or daughters."

"Ivar," I said. I used my other hand to hold his face, and Ivar leaned into the touch. "I love you. And I accept those terms."

Ivar leaned forward and kissed me deeply, his tongue brushing lightly against my teeth. When he separated from me, he grabbed a fistful of my hair from the back and held on tight. "Marry me before you go."

"I already said yes, Ivar." I reminded him right before he kissed me hard again.

I was ordered to sit on the sidelines as Ivar took control. And what little I knew about Viking traditions was put on the forefront as a fast wedding was planned. A priestess of Frigg was found living in the heart of Vestfold and she agreed wholeheartedly. I hadn't even known that a priestess had to perform a ceremony, but I supposed that it made sense.

Weddings were supposed to happen on Frigg's Day. Friday, I realized. That way it honored the goddess and the priestess would ask Frigg to bless the marriage sometime during the ceremony. The priestess Ivar had found was named Olga and she met me in order to explain everything that needed to happen.

"Normally," Olga explained, adjusting my fingers as I attempted to weave grasses and wildflowers into a sort of crown. "The couple would exchange swords given to them by their fathers. However, seeing as both Ragnar Lothbrok and your father are dead and gone, we will omit that part."

I finished weaving a light purple wildflower into the wreath. "Last time I got married, my father just signed the right paperwork and made the right deals to get me married."

Olga huffed. "None of that here, Runa. Your father was Saxon, but in the eyes of Frigg and Odin, you are as North as the rest of us. Here; use more grass. Grass symbolizes togetherness and connections; you are connected to us now."

Olga was probably the most welcoming person I had ever met. She was a much older woman, probably in her early fifties, and she had been serving Frigg the goddess since she was seven years old. She answered any question I threw at her about the customs and courtesies needed for a wedding ceremony. Olga was patient and reminded me a lot of Helga, and Constance.

I thought about my mother and what she might have thought if she was alive to see me get married a second time, to a Viking no less. I liked to think that she'd be happy for me, seeing as I was marrying someone because I wanted to and not because it was arranged. But Constance had also been a servant who had depended on her city and king to keep her safe from Viking raids. I couldn't remember Constance being very religious, but I was sure that didn't mean that she hadn't been Christian. I thought about my mother and her smile and how our hair had been the same color of brown, and I missed her still.

When the Friday finally came, a handful of thralls helped me dress and I carefully set the flower crown on my head, worried that my handiwork would fall apart the moment I touched it. But it held up and the thralls started to lead me outside where the ceremony would take place and to where the people attending were already waiting.

Freydis was one of the first faces I saw among the thralls wanting to watch the wedding. Her bruise from Ivar was very dark but she dipped her head at me with an unfriendly gleam in her eyes. I ignored her and continued past her, catching sight of Ivar at the opposite end of the crowd.

The crowd parted for me as I passed and I kept my eyes locked on Ivar. He was leaning on a crutch, his hair braided back. He looked handsome to me, and I found myself hurrying to where he stood. Ivar's eyes glinted at me and he smiled toothily.

When I got to the middle, I took in who was there. King Harald and Queen Astrid stood side by side close by, the king looking entertained and the queen looking worried about something. Margrethe stood between Ubbe and Hvitserk, Trygve and Berglijot held onto each other right next to Ingimarr and Ranveig. I recognized several earls; Earl Frode in particular gave me a deep nod as we made eye contact. Magnus had come, finally wearing Viking clothing as he kept close to Hvitserk's shadow. In the back of the crowd, Freydis watched with the other thralls, who kept to the far edge. Olga the priestess approached me and Ivar and nodded to the pair of us.

Olga started, "On the day of Frigg, we gather to witness the union of Ivar the Boneless and Runa Ecbertsdottir. Who gives this woman away to her new husband?"

Ubbe stepped forward immediately. "I do." He walked over and pressed a ring into Olga's palm. The two brothers locked eyes until Ivar gave his older brother a deep nod and Ubbe then looked to me. His blue eyes shined at me when he smiled and Ubbe winked at me before retreating back to stand beside Margrethe.

Olga, having turned away the moment Ubbe had given her the ring, returned and I saw that the ring sat in the palm of her hand, right in the middle of a pool of blood. Olga handed the ring to Ivar, and Ivar reached out for mine. Remembering what Olga had told me, I let him take my hand and I forced myself not to shudder when the cold metal soaked in hot blood was slipped onto my finger. Someone must have just killed an animal as sacrifice for the blood to be this warm, I thought.

"I name you man and wife." Olga declared, taking some of the blood and flicking it onto both my face and Ivar's. "May the gods bless you, give you children, and keep the wolves from the door."

Ivar grabbed onto my face and kissed me hard. I kissed him right back as the crowd around us cheered and gave their wishes. When Olga called for the bridal race, Ivar, not being able to run himself, called on Hvitserk to run for him. Hvitserk happily obliged and raced against Ubbe, Trygve, Earl Frode, Ingimarr, and any other man who wanted an excuse to just run as fast as they could. When Trygve lost the race, he did so gracefully and patted me hard on the back.

When the wedding party moved back into the hall, Ivar stabbed the roof of the entryway with the sword taken from Heahmund. According to Olga, however deep the sword went would tell us how well our marriage would go. I wasn't sure if that was true or not, but everyone else seemed pretty excited when the sword sunk deep into the roof of the entryway, almost to the hilt.

The moment I sat down beside Ivar, Ubbe approached me with a warhammer. "Brace yourself, Runa." He said as he sat the warhammer down on my lap. I inhaled sharply as the great weight settled ther. My hands grabbed onto the sides of the hammer, but I forced myself not to attempt to pry it off of me.

Olga had explained this part too. I needed to ask the god Thor for his blessing in the marriage, and to do so required a warhammer being set between my womb and genitals. When Olga had explained that a symbol for Thor's manhood needed to rest on my lap while I asked for his blessing, I had snorted and forced myself not to laugh openly at the Viking traditions. But Olga had seen past my amusement and taught me the right things to say when praying to Thor.

I looked at the hall's ceiling and said out loud, "Mighty Thor, I call upon you to bless my union, to give me strong sons and daughters." Once the words were said, Ubbe came forward again and lifted the warhammer off of me, and I bit back to huff of breath that came with it.

Ivar, having sat next to me the entire time, smiled cheekily at me once the hammer was gone and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" He shrugged and didn't say anything.

The wedding feast was delicious, with plates of honeyed chicken, ox roasted with leeks, salted eel, onions in gravy, and baked apples. Ivar was sure to make sure that I had a little of something from every plate, so that I wouldn't miss out on my first feast among Vikings. Every time our cups were filled with bridal ale, Ivar and I tapped our cups against each others and he'd lead the shout of skal.

When the night was over, my stomach was full and my head felt light. I had been able to dance with Ubbe, Hvitserk, Trygve, Magnus, and even King Harald. When Ivar and I had sex that night, I silently prayed that Freyja would grant my womb to quicken and for a child to come forth. Before I finally managed to fall asleep, I sent a quick thank you to Odin, Thor, Freyja, Frigg, whoever for letting me feel this happy.


	45. 45: The Red Moon

Ivar and I were given a whole week to ourselves to act like newlyweds. In this time, no one was permitted to mention to me the plan to go to Kattegat. If they did, Ivar himself promised to beat people away with his crutch.

That week was wonderful. Ivar and I spent nearly every moment together, exploring Vestfold and the surrounding lands, Ivar showing me every single dish he could think of, and of course, having sex multiple times a day in as many ways as we could think.

But the moment our week was up, King Harald was banging on our room's door until I got up from the bed and opened it. "Good; you're awake." The king said upon seeing me. "Get your husband up. You're both needed in the main hall."

Ivar groaned from the bed but King Harald was already leaving. I closed the door again and stared at Ivar. "That was nice while it lasted."

"After this war is done," Ivar promised. "We'll live like that all the time."

He always started his promises with that phrase: after this war is done. I got dressed and helped Ivar into his braces and we both went out to the main hall together, where the king and earls were already yelling about something or other. Ivar and I moved over to where Ubbe was standing with Hvitserk and Magnus, who had begun to show up to these meetings.

"Morning you two," Ubbe said upon seeing us. "You look as well rested as ever."

That was a lie, I thought. My hair was barely combed through and Ivar looked tired. We had barely slept last night. Ubbe gave me a knowing wink though, and I blushed slightly at the thought of Ubbe knowing all about my sex life with his brother.

"What are they arguing about?" Ivar asked.

"When the party going to Kattegat should leave." Magnus replied. Ivar narrowed his eyes at Magnus but said nothing.

"Have they decided who will be going?" I asked.

Hvitserk began pointing as he spoke. "Trygve and Berglijot were the first to volunteer. Lagertha doesn't know either of them so it's safe. A warrior named Bjarni who actually lives on the outskirts of Kattegat with his family; they'll be joining you all to better sell the refugee guise. A couple of recently freed thralls who swear their loyalty to the sons of Ragnar. And good ol' Magnus here."

I shot a look at Magnus. "You're coming too?"

Magnus nodded. "I won't know what to do without you here, Augusta. I figured I should go and try to help."

"You can start by using her Viking name." Ivar snapped. "You call her Augusta once and people will get suspicious." Magnus looked genuinely guilty for a long time before our attention was brought back to the meeting.

Queen Astrid sat on her throne as King Harald paced amongst the earls. Ove Frodesson was trying to volunteer but kept getting shot down. "Lagertha the Usurper knows your father well," King Harald explained. "She'd recognize you in a heartbeat if she ever caught a glimpse of you."

"Then I won't let her catch a glimpse!" Ove countered, and his father, Earl Frode, boomed with laughter and spoke loudly of his son's bravery.

"We're going to have enough on our hands trying to make sure Svanhild doesn't get a look at us." I pointed out, loud enough to be heard. The Vikings closest to me turned to listen while the ones further back were elbowed into listening. "The party doesn't need to be as big as an army. The less people, the less attraction we'll get."

A murmuring of agreement went through the crowd and I shook my head slightly. When I turned back to Ivar and the others, they were all looking uneasy about the plan. But by this point, everyone knew that this was what we were doing, and there very little to stop.

King Harald finally made the final announcement for who would be leaving. "Runa Ecbertsdottir, Trygve Bardsson, Berglijot Ansgarsson, Bjarni Elofsson, and the Saxon Magnus of Mercia."

"Hm," I hummed. I looked at Hvitserk. "Looks like the freed thralls you were talking about aren't going, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk frowned hard. "Odd. I heard Ascrida talking about how she was going with her friend."

"Well, they clearly haven't told the king that yet." Ubbe said. I nodded at that as Hvitserk looked around the hall for the freed thralls he was talking about. "Which thralls were they, Hvitserk?"

"Ascrida and the blond one Ivar slapped." Hvitserk said with a shrug.

I stared up at Hvitserk as Ivar coughed slightly. "You didn't think that was a useful thing to mention earlier?" I asked. Hvitserk shot me a glance.

"She told me why she kept staring at you in England, Runa." Hvitserk told me rather lightly. "She said she's been an admirer of yours."

I frowned and shook my head slightly. "Do you believe that, Hvitserk?"

"Doesn't matter if I believe it or not, does it?"

Ivar snorted and I thought about what he had said about why he had hit Freydis. She had told him that his legs were a sign of the gods' favor. I imagined how that sounded for Ivar, how the thing that set him apart from everyone else and the thing that had once caused him to be ridiculed was directly from the gods. If that had been me, I would have been angry too.

I met with those leaving with me to Kattegat once the meeting was over. Magnus was nervous around Trygve, but my friend gave Magnus a friendly smile. Bjarni was able to find a boat big enough for our party and we'd be able to leave tomorrow afternoon. I winced slightly at the sound of that; that was so much sooner than expected.

Before I left the group, I informed them about the thralls Hvitserk talked about. Bjarni had already known and Freydis and the former thrall called Ascrida were making themselves useful and collecting supplies for the journey.

It wasn't hard to find Freydis and Ascrida. It was hard to not admit that they were both beautiful, Freydis and her pale golden hair and Ascrida had red hair that shined now that she was free enough to take better care of it. Who had freed them? I bit my tongue on that question as Ascrida noticed me watching them and she elbowed Freydis.

Freydis approached me, flashing a bright smile as she got closer. "Ecbertsdottir! I take it as you heard that Ascrida and I are accompanying you and the others to Kattegat?"

"I heard," I replied evenly, keeping my voice as neutral as I possibly could. "Can I ask why?"

Freydis blinked but the smile stayed on her face. "I've never seen Kattegat before and I've always wanted to go. Ascrida and I, you see we're from a very small fishing village in the far north."

"Vikings will sell their own into slavery, Ecbertsdottir." Ascrida piped in. I glanced at her and couldn't think of anything to say to that. Ascrida gave me a deep nod. "It is alright, Ecbertsdottir. Freydis and I are free now. So long as we're together, we'll be okay."

I glanced between the two of them. Ascrida seemed earnest; Freydis was still smiling at me with what looked like a smug smile. I looked directly at the bruise left by Ivar; it was still there and turning yellow. I nodded to it. "Nice to see that's fading."

Freydis's smile faltered for a moment but she adjusted and I felt a sharp prick of annoyance. "I came to let you both know that we leave tomorrow afternoon."

Ascrida must have sensed the tension growing between myself and Freydis because she took a tiny step forward. "We'll be ready at the docks, don't worry about us."

I wished I could, I thought but didn't say. Instead I nodded at that and started to walk off, but before I was gone I was able to hear Ascrida hiss at Freydis, "What d'you think you're doing? Antagonizing the woman who might be our queen?"

Was that what they thought of me, I wondered. That seemed to be what Ascrida thought. I thought about the sons of Ragnar and how Ubbe had once said he didn't want the throne, Hvitserk seemed to have zero interest in it, Ivar was the one who wanted it. I was Ivar's wife. I smiled slightly to myself at the thought of being Ivar's wife and the idea of Ivar becoming king.

Ivar was sitting by himself in the main hall when I entered it again. I stared at him for a moment before going to him. Ivar looked up as I approached and he smiled.

"Don't be shy about knocking those thralls around, Augusta." Ivar said the moment I sat down beside him.

"Former thralls," I corrected. "And how did you know I went to talk to them?"

Ivar blinked. "I hadn't. What did they say?"

"Nothing really." I replied. "Just that they were eager to come on this mission. Why?"

Ivar's smile was gone and his jaw was tightened so much I thought his teeth might break. "I don't care about the redhaired one. But the blond one, Freydis. While you were captured by Heahmund in York, we were going to make a sacrifice." I opened my mouth to say something but Ivar covered it quickly. "Please, let me finish. Freydis was going to be that sacrifice. But she stripped herself naked in front of me."

I removed Ivar's hand from my mouth and snapped, "I don't want to hear anymore, Ivar. I don't give a shit what some thrall did. Nothing happened between the two of you, yes?"

"Yes?" Ivar said, looking taken aback by my sudden outburst.

"Good. In that case, I don't want to hear about how she tried to seduce you if nothing happened. I'll deal with Freydis in Kattegat. You are my husband, Ivar, and she is some blond bitch who doesn't matter."

Ivar had gone from looking confused to looking like he wanted to eat me. "Right. I love seeing this side of you, Augusta." He reached over and grabbed the back of my head and pulled me close to his face. "We have just a half of a day left together before you go to destroy the Usurper from the inside-"

"Bedroom?" I finished. Ivar let out a barklike laugh and let me go so that I could lead the way back towards our quarters.

When I woke the next morning, I didn't want to leave. I stayed curled around Ivar as long as I could, until a thrall sheepishly knocked and reminded the pair of us that a boat was leaving today. Ivar responded by throwing a nearby ax at the door, causing the thrall on the other side to shriek in alarm.

I got dressed as slowly as I could, with Ivar stopping me every now and then to kiss any part of me he could reach out and pull towards him where he laid on the bed. Whenever he did this, I felt tears threaten to burn my eyes. Finally, when I was ready to go, Ivar and I made out way slowly to the docks.

Bjarni and Trygve were already on the ship and it was ready to go. Magnus had Berglijot help him abroad and I watched as Ascrida and Freydis boarded right after Berglijot. I took a deep breath and unwound my hand from Ivar's. I turned towards where Ubbe and Hvitserk were standing and approached them.

"Take care of yourself, Runa." Ubbe said, hugging me so tightly I thought that my ribs would crack. I squeezed him back and tried not to cry when he finally let me go. "Remember what I taught you."

I felt like I would always remember the sword fights Ubbe had tried teaching me with. Even though I didn't think I'd be able to actually use any of those lessons, I still smiled at Ubbe and promised him that I would.

Hvitserk didn't say anything when he dragged me into an embrace. He just wrapped his arms tightly around me and held on tight. I held him back, realizing that I was going to miss Hvitserk's easy smile and laugh and how he always tried to make sure I was happy and okay. Right before he let me go, Hvitserk kissed my temples and pressed his forehead against mine.

Lastly was Ivar, watching me with sad blue eyes. We stared at each other for a long moment before he moved forward and leaned heavily on me as he embraced me. "We will be together soon, I promise." Ivar whispered into my ear. I buried my face into the fur in his cloak, trying my hardest not to cry in front of him.

"I love you, Ivar." I whispered right into his ear. Ivar responded by tightening his grip on me, and I knew that that was his way of saying that he loved me too.

Getting on the boat was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Not because it was hard to climb up and swing myself onboard; because the moment I got on and turned back to look at the docks, I saw the three sons of Ragnar staring back at me. Trygve, Berglijot, and Bjarni got the boat going and we were slowly moving away from the docks after that. I blinked rapidly and lifted one hand in a wave goodbye. Hvitserk raised his hand above his head to wave goodbye while Ubbe and Ivar just gave small waves.

I stayed at the back of the boat and watched Vestfold grow smaller until it disappeared altogether from sight. We were now heading into open ocean, north towards Kattegat.

That first afternoon went by fast and before I knew it, the sun was setting west towards England and we were still going north. As the sky went from orange to purple to dark blue, I kept finding myself glancing at the west, knowing that my old family was somewhere in that direction while my new family were somewhere behind me.

"Get some rest, Runa." Trygve ordered as the moon began to climb higher. "We'll make sure we get through the night in one piece."

I honestly tried, but it was hard to sleep when I felt like I was being torn in multiple directions.

As the night grew darker, the nearly full moon rose higher in the sky. I was half asleep when I heard the gasps of shock coming from Berglijot. It wasn't until Bjarni started to curse that I sat up and looked at them. Everyone on the boat were staring upwards towards the silver light from the moon. I followed their gaze and quickly froze.

A dull red light had already swallowed half of the moon, stopping the silver light from shining. Was it going to shine red? I heard crying and saw Freydis and Ascrida were clinging to each other and weeping.

"Odin protect us," Freydis was praying. I looked from them to the half red moon and I swallowed when I recognized the sight from my most recent batch of visions from Odin himself.

What had he said about it? The things I saw that night were things that would shape my days, things that were all yet to come. Maybe the red moon was a sign that this mission to Kattegat was the right thing to do.

I got to my feet and walked unsteadily to Berglijot, where she was staring up at the moon in fear. I put my hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. Berglijot looked to me, her blue eyes wide and frightful. "Berglijot, have I ever told you that Odin visits my dreams sometimes." I asked, hoping I didn't sound crazy. Back in Wessex, if someone started randomly saying that the Christian God spoke to them, they'd be marked as mad.

But Berglijot openly relaxed as I explained that I had seen this red moon in a dream and that it meant that we were on the right path. When Berglijot was looking less worried, I started to go back to my sleeping roll only to see that everyone else on the boat had been listening, and they were either looking at me with curious eyes or looking at the red moon with a lot less fear. Magnus was the only one who looked fearful, but not of the moon.

The red moon didn't last the whole night. As we continued to sail north, it eventually faded and became silver again. I stayed awake until the moon was bright again and soon fell asleep into a dreamless sleep.


	46. 46: Kattegat

My seasickness kicked me hard in the gut on the journey north. I threw up over the side a few times before straightening back up and helping Trygve and Berglijot out with whatever they needed on the ship. This meant I ended up rowing whenever they needed an extra rower.

The plan we finalized was that we'd sail straight into Kattegat and if any guards asked us questions, we'd say that we were refugees who were able to get a boat and head to Kattegat for safety. Bjarni had a family who lived on the outskirts of Kattegat and he'd bring them into the city so that they could be safe together. And then we find a weak spot in the city so that when Ivar's army came through, we'd be able to let them in quickly and end the siege before it even begins.

Trygve, Berglijot, and Bjarni knew where to sail to get to Kattegat. I sat with Magnus a lot as they sailed. Freydis and Ascrida clung to each other and whispered to each other a lot. From what I could tell, they liked to gossip and imagine what their lives will be like now that they are free women. Ascrida was hoping to marry someone for love, now that she didn't need the permission of an owner to marry.

We knew we were getting close to Kattegat when we entered a straight and began sailing down it. The valleys gave way into tall hills and finally into mountains. I watched in wonder as the mountains grew taller and rockier. Soon I was looking straight up to try and see the tops. Trygve laughed good naturedly at me. "You'll see taller mountains, Runa."

As those rocky cliffs got closer to the shore, Bjarni got Magnus to help him pull the sails in and start rowing. Bjarni, Magnus, Berglijot, and Trygve began rowing and I went to the front of boat and gasped.

Kattegat laid nestled in a valley between the mountains. Tall watch towers looked guarded and protected and already they had spotted our small boat coming towards their city. The docks reached out to take us in and the beach had grayish white sand that looked kind of stony from here. I watched as the city got closer and closer and I saw the group of shieldmaidens sitting on the docks and waiting for us to latch onto the dock.

Freydis saw them too and she rushed over to Trygve to tell him in a hushed voice. Trygve got up from rowing and joined me at the front. "Help me bring the boat in, Runa." He said. I blinked as we got close enough to the docks for Trygve to jump off the boat.

Trygve talked me through the process and tying the boat to the dock and Bjarni exited the boat just in time for the shieldmaidens carrying shields with Lagertha's colors came up to our boat.

"State your business." The head shieldmaiden ordered. I forced myself not to sigh in relief that it wasn't Svanhild or any of the warriors she had brought to war. If it had been any of them, we could have been in serious trouble before we even all got out of the boat.

Bjarni began telling our tale of woe as refugees looking for shelter. I hopped out of the boat and Magnus followed, avoiding eye contact with the shieldmaidens as he did so. Freydis and Ascrida were helped by Trygve and finally Berglijot got off, after passing some supplies to me and carrying a lot of our supplies with her.

By the time Bjarni had finished lying his ass off, we were all standing behind him and trying our best to look as downtrodden as possible. The head shieldmaiden narrowed her eyes at Bjarni and looked at every face behind him. Her eyes paused on me and Magnus and I silently cursed the Saxon look we definitely had.

"What about those two?" The head shieldmaiden asked gruffly.

Bjarni followed her gaze to us and he shrugged at the shieldmaiden. "Two half Saxons. Apparently they've got a Saxon father and a Viking mother."

The shieldmaiden frowned and gave Magnus and I another skeptical look before turning back to Bjarni. "We've gotten a few refugees already. Apparently there's an army already heading this way. You got here at the right time; it hasn't gotten that crowded yet. Go, all of you. Find a man named Folkvar Unnulfsson, he's in charge of the refugees and he'll make sure you all are taken care of."

We walked past the shieldmaidens and a few of them began inspecting our boat. I kept walking as if I was a poor pitiful half Saxon refugee and kept my head lowered. Berglijot slapped my back gently when we were far enough away and off the docks.

"Welcome to Kattegat," Trygve said, smiling at me, Magnus, Ascrida, and Freydis. We entered through the city gates and I stared openly at my surroundings.

Winchester and York had clearly been Saxon cities. Vestfold was more of a large village. Kattegat was the first Viking city I had been in and the difference was immediate. The buildings were not as tall and they were wider than Saxon buildings. Some buildings looked like they were built from old boats which I realized is probably what they were. The scent of sea salt overwhelmed every other smell, but I could faintly smell stale ale, cooking meat, piss, and old lumber.

Bjarni led the way, seemingly knowing the way to this Folkvar Unnulfsson. Magnus stayed close to him with Ascrida and Freydis behind him. Berglijot and I walked together while Trygve took the rear to make sure we all stayed together.

I had never seen so many Vikings in one place. Some buildings were obviously shops and not only did they have their wares on tables outside, but they had customers milling about. I made eye contact with a dark skinned woman who looked me up and down before nodding and going back to her shopping. Trygve touched my shoulder and looked at me with a smile.

"Thralls can earn their freedom around here, Runa." Trygve explained. "Some thralls are taken from lands far far away and once their freedom is earned, it's often hard to find passage back to wherever they came from. People prefer to settle here and make their own lives rather than return to the one they had when they were taken."

"That is what happened to your own mother, my love." Berglijot said to Trygve, her eyes shining at her lover.

Trygve nodded. "Never met my father, love. My mother was just pregnant when she was taken away. She's told me about her home, somewhere far to the east."

"Have you ever thought about finding that land?" I asked.

Trygve shrugged. "I am not from there. Norway became my home, once I earned my freedom. My mother may have wanted to go home. But this place, this land has always been my home."

Bjarni eventually found Folkvar Unnulfsson and the man in charge of the refugees sent us to a cramped looking building and we were given three rooms. Freydis and Ascrida shared one, Magnus and I shared another, and Berglijot, Trygve, and Bjarni were going to share one until we found Bjarni's family. The rooms were all cramped and damp feeling, and Magnus didn't try to hide his discomfort at sleeping in such close quarters with a woman. Bjarni had hurried over to Magnus at this and hissed into his ear, "Don't complain, boy. Runa's supposed to be your sister, remember."

"I wouldn't share a room with any of my sisters either." Magnus told me once Bjarni had left him alone. I shrugged at Magnus, not really seeing a reason to argue about it or a feeling a need too. Once we were settled into our rooms, I couldn't help but wonder how crowded things were going to get once the army started heading towards us at full speed. King Harald had promised that they'd leave the day after us. We had left two weeks ago. How long would it take an entire army to march on Kattegat?

We didn't go much of anywhere that first night. I still felt like I was seasick and a single whiff of cooking meat was enough to make me double over and want to vomit. Bjarni said I was probably still getting used to being on steady earth after being on a rocking boat for two weeks. I agreed that that sounded like the most plausible explanation and dropped it.

The second morning, I woke before Magnus and got dressed, hoping to explore Kattegat on my own before the rest of them got up. The main hall of our building didn't have the fire lit, causing the entire building to be freezing cold. I wrapped my cloak around me tighter and vaguely remembered what Ivar had told me about winters in Kattegat, how water would freeze if you didn't pay attention to it. For the love of Odin, it was only summer and I was already freezing my toes off.

Kattegat hadn't really stirred yet expect for some shop owners. I made sure to remember where my building was located before heading out, tightening the cloak around my body from the damp cold. I'd get warmer once I started moving.

The streets our building was on were narrow, but I was able to maneuver my way towards wider streets and buildings that weren't so close together. I guessed that the hall where Lagertha the Usurper lived was probably closer to the center of the city. I kept walking and thought about going closer to the center, but decided against it. I kept moving until I came into a courtyard with shop openings on nearly every squat building and the shop owners were already moving around and getting ready for the day.

A man was walking hunched over on the other side of the courtyard from me. Something about him made me pause in my walk and watch him. He walked slowly to a shop booth and the man in charge just handed him what looked like a trout wrapped in parchment. The hunched over man took the trout without paying and started to turn away.

And that's when I caught a glimpse of his hooded face and I inhaled sharply.

The man across the courtyard from me was unnatural looking. It looked like he didn't have eyes, and the skin that covered where his eyes should've been looked thin and stretched tight. His mouth was long and wide set and his lips were stained black. His nose looked malformed, as if it was made of clay and pinched tightly. I openly stared as the hunched man shuffled along, holding the wrapped trout in his clawed hands. And then he stopped walking.

The man turned slowly towards and face me, as if he was looking right at me. What felt like a bolt of lightning went down my spine and something my mind screamed, " _The Seer!_ "

I swallowed and hurried away, not really understanding where the voice had come from. All I knew was that that malformed man was important, that he was called the Seer, and that he was very important.

I also got the feeling that the Seer wasn't particularly happy I was here.


	47. 47: The Sight

That look on the Seer's disfigured face put the fear of Odin in my heart. If the gods were real, which I had already come to terms with, then would they work hard to stop me and my group from fulfilling our task? What if a god wanted Kattegat to stand? Would they send a message to the Seer to warn Lagertha? I swallowed hard and followed after the Seer, not truly thinking about what I was doing.

The Seer went through the narrow streets with purpose, as if he could see the twists and turns. Perhaps the gods guided his steps. Perhaps he had wandered these streets for so many years he had memorized them. I followed him as the streets got wider and the buildings got a bit farther apart. When the Seer approached the gate leading to the wall, I paused for a moment. I had not expected to be leaving the city today, if at all.

But the Seer suddenly froze and turned his head over his shoulder. "If you are going to keep following me, then you'd better keep up."

I blinked and slowly continued after him as the Seer continued on and left the city through the door. He walked smoothly on the bridges over a deep trench filled with sharpened wooden spikes, and he kept moving past the trenches and towards the woods. I glanced over my shoulder at the walls before hurrying after him, eventually catching up and walking right behind him.

"Walk at my side," The Seer ordered. I complied and saw that he was sniffing loudly, smelling the forest as we entered it.

"How'd you know-?" I started.

"Ask your questions when we stop." The Seer cut me off. I closed my mouth and walked in silence with this unearthly man.

Our path through the forest was a well traveled one, and if I looked down I could barely make out imprints of other feet, telling me that hundreds, maybe thousands of feet had traveled this way. The forest thinned out and ended the base of a large hill, and the Seer didn't change his speed before climbing the hill. I sighed heavily and continued after him, starting to run out of breath. When the Seer and I reached the top, the Seer finally stopped, turned on his heel, and dropped down into a cross legged sit. I frowned at him and did the same. The Seer unwrapped the trout he had gotten from the market and took a large bite out of the baked trout. I let him eat and looked down, gasping slightly at the sight.

This hill was tall enough to show the stretch of forest we had walked through, and I saw that it wrapped around Kattegat and was thicker towards the back of the city. The city was sprawled out in the middle of the valley and trees and hills and mountains, and I saw why the sons of Ragnar loved this city so much. No wonder they were willing to fight Lagertha for it.

The Seer threw the fish bones to the side and turned to face forward, towards Kattegat. "You have questions?" The Seer asked.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked immediately, swinging around to look at him.

"You are Augusta, daughter of a servant named Constance and King Ecbert of Wessex." The Seer replied without pause. I felt my skin prickle with unease as the Seer turned and faced me. "But Bjorn Ironside has named you Runa. I assume you did not follow me you ask about names."

I barely knew why I followed him in the first place. I stammered for a moment, feeling more confused than before. The Seer was waiting patiently for me to finally say something.

"The gods told you about me?" I asked softly, hoping for an explanation as to how he knew my name.

"I remember the name Augusta of Wessex being whispered into my ears," The Seer replied. "Some thirty years ago."

I narrowed my eyes. "That can't be right. I'm only twenty years old."

"And yet the gods have been whispering your name years before you were born. Tell me, was there something that happened ten years before you were born?"

I thought about it in silence for a long moment, racking my brain for anything. When I realized what it was, my skin crawled. "My mother and her family settled in Winchester, I think eight or nine years before she and the king ever looked at each other."

The Seer hummed slightly and nodded deeply. "When the gods tell me things, they never paint a whole picture. They usually only decide to share the most important pieces, while keeping everything else a mystery to be revealed later."

"Sounds maddening."

The Seer chuckled darkly, a deep and cough like sound. "You have already had experience with messages from the gods, yes? You tell me how it feels to only get a small glimpse of the greater plan."

I thought about the vision of a dark haired bride, only to realize months later that it was Blaeja getting married to Sigurd. The dark red moon, signalling the beginning of my journey to Kattegat. What else was there? I looked to the Seer.

"Why choose me to share these visions with?" I asked him, thinking he'd have the answer. I pointed to Kattegat below us. "There's a whole city of Northmen who grew up believing, knowing that their gods were real. Why choose a bastard from across the sea?"

"The gods do not discriminate when it comes to who they choose to hear their message." The Seer explained. "Whether it's a young farm boy from the north where the sky meets the mountains, or the bastard daughter of a Saxon king. The gods work in their ways, and whoever they choose must interpret those ways."

There was a pregnant pause before the Seer pointed a clawed finger at Kattegat below us. "What do you see, Runa Ecbertssdottir?"

I blinked at him but looked down to the city, at first not noticing anything different at all. But then the water from the bay rose and swelled, flooding the beach and entering the streets. I watched in stunned silence as the water crashed through the narrow streets, darkening and moving fast.

"I know why you have come to Kattegat," The Seer said darkly. "And I have seen the streets of Kattegat run red with blood of innocents and warriors alike."

I stared down at the blood rushed through streets and when I blinked, it was all gone. The sea water was at the same level as before. "What can be done to stop it?" I asked softly.

The Seer scoffed. "The visions we receive are never for us to stop it. Kattegat's future has been drowning in blood from the moment Earl Haraldson decided to butt heads with Ragnar Lothbrok. Kattegat has bled every time a new ruler comes to call, and the wars to come will be no different."

"Then what's the point of us knowing that Kattegat is doomed if we can't do anything about it?"

"The point is for the gods to know. It is not your place to question what they wish to share."

I felt a very familiar frustration bubble inside of me. The Seer faced me again, his eyeless face seemingly staring right at me. "Take it as a warning. When someone is blessed with the gift of sight, they must serve their king or queen without bias, to pass on the knowledge of the gods. Kattegat will bleed when the sons of Ragnar return home, and our queen will wish for that to not happen."

The Seer stood up on shaky legs and I hadn't realized until now how fast he had moved up here. Now, he seemed a lot more tired, and a lot weaker. "The goddess Freyja is waiting for me. I must keep her waiting longer." He paused again and face me once more. "If the moment is never right, then know this. The names of those in this war will be passed generation to generation long after those involved have collapsed into dust. You will go farther than your king father or servant mother ever dreamed. Ghosts will walk with you for the rest of your days. You will feast beneath a black sun and blood stained ground and smile. And when you find yourself alone at last, you will die in the land where the sky meets the sea."

I stared up at him, a feeling of complete and utter dread settling over me. The Seer didn't wait for my response, he possibly just didn't care about what I thought about this omen. He started down the hill, back towards the city. I sat on the lonely hillside for a very long moment, staring from his disappearing figure to the sea. I couldn't see the horizon from here; the mountains blocked the way. Where did the sky meet the sea?

The Seer had reached the bottom of the hill when I finally got up and started down, heading back towards Kattegat with my head buzzing like a nest of bees.

Almost the moment I thought it, I felt a sharp sting on my right hand.

* * *

I wandered back to the home I was assigned with everyone to find it rather empty. I knew Bjarni was working on trying to find his family, so that's probably where he was. Trygve and Berglijot were more than likely with him. Magnus was still sleeping, and I had no idea where Freydis and Ascrida could have gone. I stayed in the main hall of the home and approached the hearth, where the fire hadn't been lit yet.

I shuddered at the cold that was hanging off the hall, already seeping into my bones. How was it colder here than it was outside? I tightened the cloak around me and started stacking the couple of logs from the corner of the room in the hearth. How did I start a fire?

It took me a good few minutes to find the flint stones to spark the fire alive. It looked like no one had built a fire in this hall for a while. Considering how empty the hall was right now, I figured that someone would build the fire when more people came back.

But I was going to be here for a while, and so was Magnus. So I started striking the flint, flinching slightly at the orange sparks. It took several more minutes for my freezing hands to catch the spark on the weeds and grass I ended up throwing in there between the logs. When the first flame appeared, I smiled broadly and set the flint down as the flame began eating at the grass and weeds.

The cold was being chased away as the fire grew. I smiled softly to myself, feeling some kind of feeling of control again. My smile slowly melted off of my face though, when I finally glanced over to the walls.

The walls and room around me were shifting, changing. I stared, rooted to the spot as the rustic scenery of refugee's home faded away and became stone walls. People in long gowns and nobleman's clothes appeared and I felt cold as I recognized Saxon clothes and Saxon people-Judith!

Judith was standing just a few feet away from me, looking see through and like she might fade away if I reached out to her. But her face was pained and looking at something else. I followed her gaze and moved forward carefully. I didn't want to touch any of the ghostly shapes for fear that they might disappear.

I recognized Alfred kneeling, his face looking grief stricken. I followed his gaze to see who he was kneeling beside and I nearly fell to the ground.

King Aethelwulf was lying on his deathbed. His face was swollen so much his eyes were forced closed. His hand was swollen and I saw with a horrible chill as a bright red dot was on his hand, the exact spot that I had felt pain in earlier this morning. I looked back to Aethelwulf's face.

"Brother?" I said, kneeling and gently reaching out and touching his face. As if he really felt it, King Aethelwulf sighed and his mouth struggled to smile.

"Augusta is here…" He said weakly. I heard a sob from somewhere behind me but paid it no mind. "Don't weep for me…" Aethelwulf continued, and I had no idea whether he was talking to me or someone in the room with him. Already, he was starting to fade. "The angels are already here...Augusta is here...can't you see them, Alfred?"

There was the sound of someone sighing loudly and a shudder went through King Aethelwulf, and he was dead.

The images, having appeared to me so quickly and without warning, faded away just as fast. I fell to my knees and lifted my head, seeing the rustic view of Bjarni's house. Aethelwulf was dead.

I screamed.


	48. 48: The Usurper

Berglijot tightened the heavy blanket around my shoulders as Ascrida tried to shove a bowl of hot broth into my hands. I thanked the two of them in a soft voice as Bjarni paced hurriedly around the hearth fire.

"Will this cause problems with Snake-in-the-Eye?" Bjarni asked me.

I shook my head slowly. "Sigurd had nothing to do with it. I think this was just something the gods wanted me to see. To tell me that my brother…" My voice trailed off and I sighed so shakily I could feel myself shivering even more. "Alfred is the king of Wessex now."

"Did the gods tell you that too?" Ascrida asked, looking more fascinated with me having any kind of vision than anything else.

"No," I said. "I know how the line of succession works."

Magnus was off to the side, looking scared and sad. He stood forward and knelt in my direction kind of awkwardly. "I didn't know King Aethelwulf well, but he was a good man. My mother always spoke so highly of him."

I smiled thinly at Magnus for his attempt at being comforting. As I drank the broth, the other Northmen seemed to lose interest now that they knew I wasn't dying. Ascrida had told us that she had heard me from the square and had come running to find Magnus struggling to calm me down.

Bjarni risked a glance at me before clearing his throat. "Now that that excitement's over, I have to go back and try and find out when my family will get here."

"Have you found anything out yet?" Berglijot asked in her heavily accented voice.

Bjarni's face darkened. "Nothing really. No one on the walls will tell me how many refugees are expected, nor where the Ragnarssons army is now. I know they've sent scouts; Svanhild has lead one herself."

I perked up at that. "Svanhild? This is good news; no one at the great hall will know who I am now."

"What is your plan, Ecbertsdottir?" Bjarni asked dryly. "Find the Usurper yourself and kill her?"

Before I could respond, Berglijot gave me a sympathetic look. "You just found out that your brother is dead. You must grieve before anything else. The gods demand it."

With how I was feeling right now, I wanted to tell every single god out there to fuck right off. What was the point of showing me Aethelwulf's death bed if I couldn't help him in reality? What was the point of showing me Kattegat drowning in blood if there was no hope in saving it? What was the point of cryptic words and dread hanging over me and only me like a black cloud?

Odin could come down from the heavens and strike me himself if he had a problem with me not wanting to sit and think about Aethelwulf's death. I needed to not think about the funeral preparations that were happening at this second, how a coronation of Alfred would happen just days after, how Judith would begin a grieving period and would either have to remarry or join a nunnery.

It was unfair and stupid and I wanted to do something other than sit here and grieve. So instead of answering Berglijot, I drained the bowl of hot broth, burning my tongue in the process, and got up and let the heavy blanket fall to the floor behind me.

"I'm not going to talk to the queen today." I told them. "I just want to look around that hall."

Berglijot got up too. "I will come too. I promised Ivar the Boneless that I'd protect you at all costs, Runa."

I blinked and for a moment I longed for Ivar's presence more than anything. I wanted to bury my face in his chest and hear his voice. But he wasn't here, and wouldn't be here for the foreseeable future, so I'd just have to wait to do that until he got here.

Berglijot led the way to the great hall with myself, Bjarni, and Magnus right behind her. Bjarni figured that an audience with the queen would give him his answers about when more refugees were supposed to be coming in.

The great hall where the royal family lived loomed over the rest of the city, and I swallowed at the sight of it. Magnus stared at it with wide eyes, looking about as intimidated as I felt. Berglijot didn't notice our reluctance and continued along, leading us up the hill and into the crowded hall.

The hall was high and wide. A massive hearth fire was crackling in the center of it, and there was a cluster of thralls around it skinning what looked like rabbits. Crowds of Northmen were tightly clustered, trying to get to the front, to presumably talk to Lagertha when she finally appeared. Bjarni nodded to us before joining the crowd of people to speak to Lagertha. Berglijot turned to me and Magnus.

"Come. Let's get a spot around the side. We'll be able to see from there." She led the way through the crowd, weaving with ease around the people. Magnus and I struggled to keep up with her, but we pulled through and met Berglijot on the other side of the crowd and the three of us stood against the wall, the throne and front of the crowd just a few feet away. I felt a sudden wave of cold go over me.

"What's the Seer doing here?" I asked in a hushed voice. Berglijot followed my gaze and shrugged.

"Perhaps he has business with the queen."

"Isn't that Freydis?" Magnus asked, pointing. I tore my gaze from the Seer near the front of the crowd to Freydis was standing in the crowd, her pale golden hair braided and practically shining. Freydis looked like she knew exactly where we were standing and she was fighting to avoid our gazes. Magnus looked as confused as I felt. "What does she have to talk to the queen about?"

Before anyone could speculate what Freydis had to say, five shieldmaidens emerged from the rooms behind the throne and behind them came who could only be Queen Lagertha.

What had I expected from the woman that the Ragnarssons hated so much? She had once been Ragnar Lothbrok's wife. She was beautiful, rather short looking for a Viking woman. The dress she wore was made of black fur and boiled leather, warm and safe I presumed. Her straw blond hair matched Bjorn's exactly, but she had streaks of silver going through it from what was most likely age. I could see from here that her eyes were lined with black kohl. All in all, she looked regal and strong, and I pictured her shooting an arrow into Queen Aslaug's back.

This was the woman who murdered Aslaug, the mother of Ivar and the men I thought of as brothers. If Aslaug was alive, who knows the kind of relationship I'd have with her. Lagertha took that away before anything could have happened. I thought about Constance, how much I loved her hugs and missed her laugh. I could barely remember what Constance sounded like. Thanks to Lagertha, that was what was in store for Aslaug's sons in a decade or two.

Lagertha the Usurper sat on her throne and sighed deeply. When the last four shieldmaidens came out from the room behind the throne, Lagertha looked to someone in the front of the crowd and nodded for them to come forward.

I leaned over to Berglijot as the man hurried forward. "She has an awful lot of security." I whispered.

Berglijot counted the shieldmaidens that had formed a line between Lagertha and the crowd. "She is a queen, Runa."

It still seemed like a lot of armed guards. I scanned the crowd, looking at the faces. Including Bjarni and Freydis, some of them looked anxious. But there was a very good amount of people who looked aggressive, who were glaring at their queen. Had something happened before we got here, something that caused Lagertha to want this many shields between her and her people.

The business with the man finished up and he hurried out of the hall, weaving around the crowd to get away. The tension in the hall was mounting, and it seemed to get worse when the Seer didn't wait to be called forward, and moved forward shakily. The shieldmaidens closest to him began to draw their weapons, but Lagertha quickly called out, "Hold your weapons. The Seer must have something important to say."

"Thank you for your defense, my queen." The Seer rasped, the hall getting quieter. Everyone it seemed wanted to listen to what he had to say. "I have been listening to the gods, and they are concerned with what is stirring inside Kattegat's walls, as well as what's coming towards the walls."

Lagertha blinked. "The armies of Finehair and Ivar the Boneless have landed. We know what it coming from outside the walls, Seer. It is what's inside that concerns me.

The Seer leaned towards Lagertha up on her throne, and hissed loud enough to be heard by nearly everyone around. "You have a snake in your midst. And it will strike true if not rooted out."

My heart stopped and there was a struggle to keep the terror of being found out off my face. Lagertha had gone rigid as the crowded hall began muttering, repeating the omen until it soon became common knowledge. Lagertha glared at the Seer before looking at the restless crowd.

"If there truly is a snake," Lagertha started. "Then they are a coward for not trying to kill me sooner. I do not fear cowards."

"The snake that bides its time in the grass," The Seer fired back. "Will often be the snake that claims the prey."

Lagertha's eyes flashed. "I am no one's prey, Seer. Are you threatening me?"

"I do not threat." The Seer replied. "I only warn of the gods' plans. I only speak their truth when they wish to tell it."

"The gods have forsaken you, Lagertha!"

The voice from the back of the hall could have come from anyone, but they caused a loud murmuring of agreement to follow it.

"You murdered Queen Aslaug!"

"Murderer!"

"The gods punish Kattegat!"

A clamor began as Lagertha's shieldmaidens stormed forward, trying to find the ones yelling treason. I caught sight of Freydis and several others hurrying from the hall. I looked back to where Lagertha had stood up from the throne, looking at the crowd with-was that fear? One of her shieldmaidens hurried forward and was urging Lagertha to leave the hall.

As the yelling farther in the hall got louder and more wild, I couldn't help but agree with the shieldmaiden. The crowd in the back had started fighting enough to block the hall's entrance with flying fists and shoving. Berglijot grabbed my arm roughly and shoved me back, putting herself between me and the angry crowd.

The sudden sound of steel and a shrill scream made my breath catch in my throat as a shieldmaiden began to fully fight with a random man from the crowd. The loud thump of a body told me that somebody was either already injured or dead. I looked back to the throne just in time to see Lagertha being escorted away from the madness, throwing glares over her shoulder at the fighting crowd.

"Bjarni!" Magnus called out.

Bjarni's scream came right after Magnus called out his name; a shieldmaiden had slashed at him with her sword. I hurriedly patted at Berglijot. "Save him, please!" I hissed. "Magnus and I will be fine back here."

Berglijot rushed forward and leapt right into the thick of the fight. I blinked at her for a moment as Magnus back up, accidentally pushing me back closer to the throne and away from the fighting. I grabbed onto Magnus and pulled him back, trying to protect him as much as I could. I hadn't brought the dagger that Ivar had given me, forgetting about it in my grief about Aethelwulf.

"You!"

The shieldmaiden stormed out of the room from behind the throne, pointing a shortsword at me and Magnus. I put myself between Magnus and the shieldmaiden and glared up at her. "What are you doing?" The shieldmaiden spat at us.

"Trying to not die!" I fired back. The shieldmaiden's hazel eyes narrowed to slits and I flinched when she pressed the tip of the blade on my chest.

"You will die if you take one more step forward," She snarled.

"Gunnhild!" A sharp voice hissed from that back room. The tall shieldmaiden looked over her shoulder and quickly removed her sword and I let out a heavy breath. "They are harmless. You two, hide in here."

Gunnhild went after the voice immediately. Magnus and I hesitated before following after her, escaping the pushing crowd that were struggling to fight or flee.

The voice belonged to a girl around fourteen years old. Her hair was straw blond and her eyes were bright blue. I froze for a moment, instantly recognizing Bjorn's eyes. The girl looked between me and Magnus and she frowned. "You two don't look like Northmen."

Magnus, who had never met Bjorn in his life, was able to answer. "Our father was Saxon. But our mother was very Viking."

She frowned deeply at the way he said it and I shook myself. She didn't look like Bjorn when she frowned. "You seem harmless enough. Gunnhild, let my grandmother know they're here."

Gunnhild disappeared to follow her order immediately. She turned back to us. "I'm Princess Siggy Bjornsdottir. You are?"

"I'm Magnus, and this is Runa." Magnus replied, casting the doorway an uneasy glance. Siggy picked up on his unease and started to go after Gunnhild.

"Come with me, half Saxons." Siggy said with the air of a young princess. Magnus glanced at me with concern before going after her. I forced myself to keep moving.

I hadn't wanted to come in contact with Lagertha today, not right after Aethelwulf died. I could practically hear my older brother's voice chastising me for being reckless. It was too late to turn back now, what with a fight happening in the great hall and Bjorn's own daughter leading me straight to Ivar's worst enemy.

The room that Siggy led us to was fairly big, another hearth fire in the center. Gunnhild stood at the doorway, glaring at me and Magnus as we passed and entered the room. One quick glance told me that Magnus was the only man in here. A woman with white blond hair sat by the hearth fire, and baby at her breast. Her eyes were heavily lined with kohl and looked to be actually light brown. Lagertha was pacing behind her, her dress dragging against the floor and making noise as whenever she moved. A boy who looked to be five years old trailed behind Lagertha, trying to imitate her closely. They all looked up when Siggy led us in here.

"Who are they, Siggy?" The woman at the fire asked.

"They're Magnus and Runa." Siggy explained. "They were trying to stay away from the fighting and Gunnhild was going to kill them if they came closer to the door."

"My queen," Gunnhild interjected. "I was only trying to protect the royal family."

"They don't have weapons on them and they look as threatening as Refil." Siggy snapped. Magnus and I glanced at each as the young girl glared hard up at the shieldmaiden. "And until the fighting is over, I claim responsibility for them." She turned back to me and Magnus, an angry fire still burning in her eyes. "Come over here and sit." She barked.

Even when she was trying to be hospitable, Siggy was slightly terrifying.

Magnus and I didn't have much of a choice as we sat at the hearth fire, across from the woman nursing her son. I made accidental eye contact with her and she smiled thinly at me. "I am Torvi. This is my son, Refil. My other son, Erik is somewhere."

"He's over here, Torvi." Lagertha said in a tired voice. She was the only one who had barely looked at me and Magnus. I vaguely remembered a story from King Ecbert about how he had known her once long ago.

I thanked every god out there that I didn't look that much like King Ecbert.

Lagertha looked over to me and Magnus and she didn't give either of us more time than I wanted. "You are half Saxon?" She asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I thought about adding your grace, but instead I chose, "My queen."

Lagertha looked me up and down for a moment before continuing her pacing. "You look Saxon."

There was an awkward pause, no one seeming to want to say anything else. Siggy sat down beside Torvi and I couldn't help but stare. She looked remarkably like Bjorn, and I couldn't help but wonder when the last time she had seen her father was. I glanced at Torvi and wondered when the last time she saw him. From what I remembered from Ivar's family tree, Torvi and these two baby boys were Bjorn's wife and sons respectively. Bjorn had left to avenge Ragnar and went straight back to explore the Mediterranean with Halfdan.

Siggy caught me staring and I averted my gaze straight to the fire, staring at that instead. I felt the heat of Siggy's gaze glaring at me for a moment before the younger girl started addressing Lagertha instead.

"You need to speak to the people." Siggy insisted. By the way Lagertha stopped pacing and sighed, they had had this argument already before. Lagertha turned and faced Siggy, a look of forced patience on her face.

"You know what the people are like right now." She said. "I will not risk our family's safety so that-"

"The Seer said some words and you're mad at them for getting upset?" Siggy snapped. "They take the Seer's word always, you can't expect them to not react to what he said."

Lagertha narrowed her eyes at Siggy. "The Seer tells me there's a traitor hiding among us. Someone is plotting my death as we stand here now." She cut herself off and glared hard at me and Magnus. "We will not have this discussion here, Siggy. I do not know these two. Send them away, both of them. The fighting must have stopped by now."

Gunnhild was pushing us up the very next second. I grabbed Magnus by the hand and started pulling him towards the way we came before Lagertha could change her mind at all. I heard Siggy begin to argue with Lagertha as we left but I didn't stop to turn around or listen in.

The fighting was done by the time we left the great hall and I didn't let go of Magnus until we reached the refugee house. Our entire group were inside, and I immediately spotted Trygve patching up a cut on Berglijot's face.

Magnus and I joined the others and I quickly relayed to them everything we had seen and heard among the royal family.


	49. 49: Melting Summer

I soon noticed that no one from the royal family ever made an appearance around the city. Trygve, Berglijot, Magnus, and I got to work trying to figure out how to open the city gates when we needed to. And we first started doing this by scouting out the great hall and wandering the streets around the city square. But Lagertha and her family never left the large hall, and neither had Gunnhild for that matter. Trygve suspected that Gunnhild could be being kept close to the family to better protect them.

Magnus had snorted when he heard this. "I don't think that Siggy needs much protection." I frowned at the prince from Mercia as he blushed slightly and I hid my amusement. It seemed like so long ago that Queen Kwenthrith was trying to marry Magnus off to a highborn Viking. Ubbe had thrown Siggy's name into the ring, and now Magnus was blushing at the thought of Siggy.

That felt so long ago.

Where was the Ragnarssons' army right now? They were on the move, but they could still be days away from Kattegat, and even when they did get here, they wouldn't be able to sail straight into the bay. Trygve explained to me in a hushed voice that the army would have to go around the mountains and deep into the valley to get here. We had gone to the hill where the Seer and I had spoken, and we wandered the hills, rooting up what Trygve insisted were edible plants and talking about battle strategy. Trygve didn't want to risk anyone seeing us and thinking we were up to no good.

"It would be easier to sail straight in." Trygve explained, waving a hand to the bay. "But Kattegat is very easy to defend; the queen saw to that." He turned in the opposite direction and I followed his gaze, looking at the sea of dark green trees surrounded by high hills and gray mountains beyond that.

"This city is surrounded." I whispered.

"Kattegat has natural defenses." Trygve agreed. "When Lagertha came into power. She wasted no time building the wall around Kattegat, securing it completely. There's a reason they say that whoever controls Kattegat, controls this region of Norway. It's the biggest city, and the most protected, by Lagertha and the gods."

I looked back to Trygve. "How are they supposed to take back this city?"

Trygve blinked and sighed heavily. "I do not know, Runa. We may have underestimated how defensible Kattegat is. It could take the army months to get here."

The sound of that sent fear jolting through my gut and I wrapped my arms around my middle. "I don't have months, Trygve."

Trygve looked from my arms to my undoubtedly terrified face and his small eyes widened. "Runa?"

I nodded, feeling my face tighten as I struggled not to cry. "I can't bring a child into the world, not without Ivar here. I'm not strong enough for that. If I had known I was pregnant before leaving, I never would have...I'm really scared, Trygve."

My friend came forward and hugged me gently, bringing me into his chest and trying his best to comfort me. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, trying not to cry and wishing that Ivar and his brothers were here.

Trygve eventually separated from me and looked at me in the face. "How long have you known?"

"Almost a month." I said shakily. "I realized when I overheard Freydis and Ascrida talking about how they had begun their monthly cycle and I realized that I hadn't. I thought that maybe it was late but the days just kept coming without it and I can't remember the last time I bled and oh Trygve how could I have been so stupid to insist on this mission when I'm carrying a baby?"

My words had gotten so fast they blurred together but I couldn't stop it. I struggled to breathe and explain to Trygve just how scared I felt and Trygve stared blankly at me with worry on his face.

Finally, "Runa!" Trygve exclaimed. He came over and placed his hands on either side of my face, holding me still. "Breathe along with me." He started breathing very deeply, taking a long time to inhale and exhale. I copied him and struggled at first, but after a moment we were soon breathing deeply together. Trygve let me go when he was satisfied with my breathing. "There. You are not alone, Runa. Myself, Berglijot, Magnus, the others, we are all here for you. None of us would be here if we didn't think your plan was a good one. And you being pregnant does not change that or the plan. I believe I speak for our group when I tell you that we're not going to abandon the mission just because you are with child."

I blinked rapidly at Trygve, trying to get rid of the tears that had been burning the back of my eyes. I rubbed my eyes and stared up at Trygve. "Thank you. I just wish that...that Ivar and the others were here too."

Trygve smiled softly at that, his black eyes squinting slightly at me. "I understand that, Runa. Just remember that even though your husband is far away right now, you still have family down in the refugee house. If that child comes before the army does, we'll all help you with it." He paused and chuckled good naturedly. "Your child is already on their first mission and they haven't been born yet!"

I thought about that for more than a moment and chuckled as well, hiccuping slightly. Trygve gave me a hearty thump on the back and gathered our baskets of root plants for Berglijot to roast into a meal. As we descended back down the hill towards Kattegat, I felt lighter than I had going up, but the sense of isolation didn't go away.

* * *

As summer melted to an end, my belly swelled. Nothing was sadder than the pregnant refugee, and strangers gave me pitying looks. One of the vendors at the market always snuck extra root vegetables to me, a sad yet hopeful expression on his face.

"You should accept every gift you're given." Freydis insisted nearly every other day. "When Ivar the Boneless arrives, he will no doubt make you queen. You should get used to extra vegetables now, so you're not shocked about it later."

I didn't think it was my pregnancy that made people pity my state. I fully believed it was the story I had concocted to explain it.

Meanwhile, after weeks of strolling past the great hall, Lagertha and her family refused to let the townspeople inside. The meeting we had attended had also been the last meeting entirely. And with more and more refugees entering the city every day now, people were getting crowded and getting angrier and angrier.

"She is our queen." A drunkard on our street was prone to saying. "But our queen is a fool. She claims to hate cowards, yet hides from the people like a flea bitten rat! What happened to the Lagertha of yesterday, when she raided and pillaged alongside Rollo and Ragnar Lothbrok? The shieldmaiden Lothbrok had loved has been dead for years!"

A great muttering of agreement usually followed this kind of talk.

"If she doesn't do something soon," Trygve told me one evening." The people will tear her apart before the sons of Ragnar can."

I remembered the vision of Kattegat drowning in blood and I shuddered.

The Seer himself was extremely busy, what with people imploring him for advice and omens. They wanted to know things like whether or not the city would fall, would the sons of Ragnar kill Queen Lagertha, these questions were on everyone's minds nowadays. People were worried and it only got worse as more people began coming into the city.

Bjarni's family finally arrived in Kattegat. His wife, a plump and dark blond woman named Una, marched into the city with her five children trailing behind her, looking tired and bedraggled. Bjarni, who had been obsessively hanging around the city gates in case this very situation happened, had charged his wife and children and brought them back to our assigned refugee house, introducing us to his long awaited family.

I liked Una. She took one look at my pregnant belly and smiled broadly at me, the first smile I had seen since revealing I was pregnant. "Oh my dear, don't you worry about a thing." Una told me, grasping my hands and squeezing them comfortingly. "I know a thing or two about the birthing bed; anything you need, I will help you."

Bjarni's children were given one room to themselves. The oldest, a fifteen year old girl named Kari, was in charge of the younger four; the eldest son was a boy around eleven named Alaric, the twins, Bjorg and Gudrun were eight years old, and the youngest was a two year old girl named Vigdis. When Una told me she had experience with the birthing bed, I believed her. Though the idea of having one child, let alone five, was instantly terrifying to me.

With the addition of six new people though, brought instant complications. No one who came here from Vestfold really knew how Bjarni's family would react to everything, not even Bjarni. When Trygve led our group from Vestfold up into the hills to collect more food and it was out there we discussed the possibility of telling Una and her children.

"I trust my wife and Kari." Bjarni said gruffly. "The younger children, not so much. The twins are devious, and they'd tell anyone a secret just because it's a secret."

"They truly sound like beautiful children." Ascrida said sarcastically. Freydis exchanged a look with her friend and snickered. I held the basket that they were collecting roots in, and Freydis smiled at me when she came up to me to drop fresh roots into the basket. I blinked and felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth, faintly smiling back.

"What do you think it is?" Freydis asked, looking down to my belly, which had begun to stick out. "A son or daughter?"

I thought about it for a moment and shook my head. "I haven't really thought about it, honestly. I think as long as they're healthy, I'll be happy."

Freydis smiled at the sound of that and nodded. "That's a noble thought, Runa. Either way, they are a child of Ivar the Boneless. I'm sure his strength will come through your child."

I smiled thinly at that, vaguely uncomfortable at her bringing up Ivar. Ever since the day Ivar had hit her, I had noticed how much Freydis paid attention to him. Ivar's words about how Freydis had stripped in front of him and tried to kiss him came ringing back into my ears. Freydis gently patted my belly before going back to help Ascrida, and I fought the urge to recoil the moment she touched me.

Freydis hadn't done anything that bad yet, I reminded myself. I turned away from Freydis and collected the roots from everyone else.

When the chill in the air became more apparent, I got more worried. Ivar had once told me that the winters around Kattegat would freeze water if you left it sitting still for too long. Between my pregnancy and the coming colder months, I was becoming a worried mess.

On a bright and cold morning another month later, I wrapped my cloak tightly around my large belly and began my patrol around the great hall, where the royal family had continued their lock in. It was so cold I didn't make it far into the patrol before my feet started aching.

"Shit." I hissed, going to the corner of a random building and pressing my back against the wall. My feet throbbed with pain as I slid down until I was able to sit. The moment I sat, I realized I could barely reach my feet anymore to try and soothe the pain. I had enough time to groan in annoyance and pain before someone walking by stopped and stared.

"Are you okay?"

That voice was way too familiar. I looked up to see a hooded and cloaked figure looking down at me. Recognition shot through me like lightning when I realized that I was looking up at Queen Lagertha.

The queen seemed to have recognized me, because she came closer and knelt down so that we were close to eye to eye. "You're feet hurt, don't they?" She asked.

I stared at her. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I was a mother before I was a queen." Lagertha replied. "Come. Let me help you."

She stood up and held her hands out for me. I took her hands and the queen was able to heave me up without a lot of effort, a sign of Lagertha's background of being a shieldmaiden. Lagertha dusted me off and I stared at her curiously.

"Forgive me for asking," I started. "But why are you out here? No one has seen you for months."

Lagertha's eyes darkened. "I had questions for the Seer. He didn't give me what I needed."

While her expression remained dark and brooding, I felt a stab of relief. The Seer still hadn't told her about me. I made a sympathetic noise in my throat and Lagertha blinked almost violently, as if trying to rid her dark thoughts from her mind. She looked down to my large belly and blinked. "I believe you weren't pregnant when we first met."

I coughed slightly. "I was, I just hadn't noticed yet."

"Oh. Where's the father?"

This was the story I had invented to garner sympathy while keeping the father's identity a secret. I looked down and acted downtrodden. "Well, back in my mother's village, there was a man who stayed behind instead of going to the Saxon islands. We were going to marry each other until this new army started going north. He ran off, leaving me behind without any kind of defense. So my brother and I rushed here without looking back." I made my face twist in a kind of anger. "I only wish I hadn't given him what he wanted before he left me."

Lagertha's face was sympathetic and she gently patted my shoulders. "I'm sorry to hear that. But this child will be a blessing from the gods. Children always are."

I wondered if she truly thought that about Bjorn, even though he hadn't come back home yet. Or about Ubbe; he had told me that Aslaug had arrived without warning and eight months pregnant. Lagertha had soon thereafter taken Bjorn and left Kattegat and Ragnar. And it took Lagertha several years to kill Aslaug in revenge.

Lagertha glanced around us, her eyes darting around for threats. "I must go back home. If you wish to come by for anything, feel free to. My granddaughter, Siggy, is practicing to become a midwife. I'm sure she'd love to help you again."

That genuinely shocked me. "Oh, thank you. Really, thank you."

Lagertha smiled thinly, but it didn't last long. She cast a worried look over her shoulder again before leaving. I watched her the entire time, seeing her enter a back doorway to the great hall, disappearing from sight.


	50. 50: Fate

"Runa! Wake up! Runa, hurry!"

I was shaken awake by Freydis, who had abandoned her usual sly smile for a terrified expression. I shook myself as Freydis looked between me and the wide open doorway. "Come!"

"What happened?" I asked groggily, allowing Freydis to help me up and out of bed. "Is it the army? Have they arrived?"

Freydis shook her head. "You just have to see." She kept a tight grip on my hand, barely giving me time to put a heavy cloak on before pulling me out of the refugee house entirely. I looked around as Freydis pulled me into the crowded street, where it seemed everyone else in the area was rushing somewhere too.

"Are the others already where we're going?" I asked, having to raise my voice for Freydis to hear.

"They should be." Freydis replied, sounding breathless. "I ran all the way back to the house for you."

"I'll appreciate it more when I know what's happening." I said. Freydis squeezed my hand slightly and kept her grip on me as she weaved and pulled me along. The crowd thickened as Freydis led me to an unknown area of the city, towards the bay and away from the docks and ships. Freydis pushed her way through, casting dirty looks at those who wouldn't move. I stuck close to her until we finally reached Ascrida, Magnus, and Kari.

"Has she done it?" Freydis asked in a hushed voice.

"Not yet." Ascrida said, making room for the two of us. I ended up squeezed between Freydis and Magnus. When I looked out to see what the commotion was all about, I felt my breath freeze in my lungs.

There was a large stake at the end of the isolated dock, with a pile of timber and kindling at the bottom of it. And tied to it, still looking as calm as ever, was the Seer.

Queen Lagertha stood in front of the pyre, wearing white with a black fur cloak hanging elegantly from her shoulders. No one else from the royal family was there with her; instead she had a wall of shieldmaidens standing between her and the crowd. Lagertha and the Seer were having some kind of conversation and I felt my breath freeze in my throat.

"She wouldn't?" I said.

"He's the Seer." Freydis said dumbly. "He's our link to the gods." She froze and whipped around to stare at me, realization filling her wide green eyes.

There was a sudden commotion and I turned to look at the Seer and Queen Lagertha. The Seer raised his voice to be heard by the crowd. "I am the first drop of blood in the wave that will drown Kattegat!" He turned his head to face towards me, and I got the horrified feeling that the Seer was looking right at me. "Kattegat will drown in blood, and there is no stopping it! The sons of Ragnar are closer than you think, and it is by a son of Ragnar that Queen Lagertha will die!"

An uproar went up in the crowd, as the people began to let Lagertha know what they truly felt. The shieldmaidens guarding the queen were already struggling against the sea of angry and terrified people as Lagertha went and took the torch that would light the pyre.

I turned away and began shouldering my way through the crowd, leaving behind the Seer's terrifying words and screams of pain rose into the air. I hurried away until I reached the edge of the crowd of people and promptly doubled over and threw up the contents from my stomach. Behind me, I still hear the Seer's screams of agony as he burned to death. Along with the Seer's screams came the weeping and wailing of the people of Kattegat as they watched their connection to the gods burn to death.

A hand was placed on my back and someone ended up helping me collect my hair out of my face, to keep vomit from falling into my hair. I remained bent over, occasionally emptying my stomach as the Seer's screams finally stopped.

I straightened up, with the stranger rubbing my back gently, trying to be as comforting as possible. I didn't recognize the girl; she looked younger than me, with dirty blond hair and wide blue eyes. Her wide eyes grew wider when she noticed my swollen belly.

"Oh! Are you okay?" She asked.

"The smell," I gasped, breathing deeply. "It made me sick." I covered my nose and mouth with my hand and the girl helped me stay steady on my feet.

"Let's get you away from the crowd." She said. "It's too sick over here."

The stranger and I walked down an alley and into a square, fairly abandoned by the city, since everyone was watching the Seer burn. The girl and I sat down at a random table across from each other; she now looked at a loss for what to say next.

"How far along are you?" She asked quietly.

I thought about it for a moment. "Around five months, I think. If I have the day correct. It feels so long ago now." I paused. "I'm Runa, by the way."

The girl blinked rapidly and shook herself, laughing slightly. "Oh! I forgot to tell you my name! I'm Thora. It's nice to meet you, Runa. I just saw you needing help and thought I should."

"That's very kind of you." I replied. "There aren't a lot of kind people out there."

Thora tilted her head slightly. "I don't think that's true."

"We just saw a man get burned to death because he didn't tell the queen what she wanted to hear."

She blinked and shrugged. "Right. But that scene aside, people are supporting each other over there. You didn't get to see, but I saw people let complete strangers rest on shoulders as they cried. People leaned on the Seer for advice, and now that he's gone-" She shuddered and shrugged again. "It's going to get worse here now, isn't it?"

This was the first time I had heard this kind of talk so openly. Usually I had these discussions with my group in the safety of our refugee house, not sitting on a random table in the middle of an open courtyard where anyone could walk into our conversation. I snorted quietly, thinking that that just proved how little the people of Kattegat cared anymore.

They might start caring now though, I thought darkly, now that they saw what happened when someone speaks out against the queen.

My thoughts were interrupted by Freydis, rushing away from the crowd and to the other end of the courtyard. Thora and I watched her in silence until she disappeared. Thora leaned towards me, a slight smile on her face, "Isn't she your friend?"

I immediately shook my head. "Someone I live with."

"She's rather odd."

"You have no idea, Thora."

This felt too normal, considering what we had just witnessed, but talking to Thora was easy and she seemed very sweet. I liked her instantly and we went back to my assigned refugee house to continue talking as the crowd left the burning and began to mill back into the city.

Thora and I were the first ones in the house and I got to work immediately waking up the hearth fire and stoking some flames. Thora watched with an expression of what could have been admiration. "You did that rather fast."

I shrugged that off. "I've been getting lots of practice it seems."

The doors opened again and Ascrida and Kari entered, followed closely by Berglijot, who looked very green. I blinked at them as they began to crowd the hearth, drawn to the warmth. "Where is everyone else?"

"Queen Lagertha announced that the Seer's home will be emptied and his things demolished." Ascrida explained. "Trygve corralled everyone into helping him get as many symbols of the gods as they could grab."

"We came back here looking for you and Freydis." Kari finished. She finally caught sight of Thora and narrowed her gaze. "That's not Freydis. Where is she?"

"We saw her running through the courtyard." Thora explained.

"She must've gone to the Seer's house if that's what's happening." I guessed.

Berglijot swallowed and looked like she may still be sick. "I will collect some food to cook. No use sitting here with our tummies rumbling."

"Please no meat!" Kari called out as Berglijot started to walk away. The shieldmaiden waved a hand, letting us know that she had heard.

The house wasn't that calm and quiet for long before the doors burst open and slammed shut minutes later. Freydis hurried in, red faced and breathless. "Where have you been?" Ascrida asked, judgement lacing her voice.

Freydis responded by emptying her pockets beside me. "These things...were the herbs the Seer used to predict things. You...you have predicted things before, Runa. Please try and see what he saw."

I stared up at her in bewilderment, not sure what she was getting at. Thora and Kari were both looking at her like she had grown an extra head. I shook my head at Freydis. "I can't control the things I see, Freydis. Visions come and go whenever the gods see fit to show me things."

"The Seer was our connection to the gods!" Freydis fought back. "Without him, we have no one to guide us!"

"I didn't realize you were so religious, Freydis." I muttered.

"I was supposed to be a follower of Freyja before I was sold into slavery." Freydis confided. She dropped to her knees and grabbed a small clay jar and emptied a fistful of the loose yellow powder into her palm. "The Seer promised me he would-he would help guide me on what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what to do now. Please just try and see something, anything. Try and see where the sons of Ragnar are. Anything!"

Despite everything, I felt a stab of jealousy that Freydis felt this connected to her gods that she'd take anything she could to keep that piece of her religion alive. I had wanted this kind of faith all my life, and I still didn't really have it.

"Please see if you can see what he once saw." Freydis pleaded. I stared at her for a moment longer, glancing briefly at Kari, Ascrida and Thora for a moment before heaving a sigh and reaching my hand out for the powder. Freydis smiled in relief as she handed the bright yellow powder into my fist, a small amount spilling between my fingers and onto the floor.

I had just tossed the powder into the hearth when I heard Berglijot sharply yell, "Wait!"

The flames rose high, getting extremely hot immediately. The rush of the flames sent a gust of air into my face, blasting my face with hot and sticky air that blew my longer hair back and it smelled in a way that I could only describe as burning lamp oil.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, thinking hard about the sons of Ragnar and where they were now, willing myself to see something. Silently praying to the gods to show me vision the way the Seer saw them, on command and with ease.

The floor fell away from me and when my eyes opened with a jolt, I saw them.

The sons of Ragnar were clearly in different places of the same field, as the backgrounds all looked matching. But they all moved in a sort of blurry slow motion. I stared wide at eyed as Ubbe drove a sword through the belly of a shieldmaiden bearing Lagertha's colors on her shield. When I wanted to focus on Hvitserk, I saw that he had fallen off his horse, an arrow lodged in his shoulder. But he managed to get to his feet just as another Viking came to attack him. Ivar, my Ivar, was riding in the chariot, muddy and blood coating his face. A wild blue fire glinted in his eyes as he smiled and launched an ax into the skull of a random shieldmaiden, also carrying Lagertha's colors. I stared in shock as I recognized the shieldmaiden. Svanhild?

Almost as soon as I took focus off Ivar, the image dissolved and reformed, much bluer than before. This ocean was bright and sunny, and a mass of mountains laid in front of the small fleet of longships. I knew these mountains were the same that were miles away from me right now. And I got a closer look at the longships, finding him right away.

It felt as though I was dropped back on the ground and I gasped in shock as my companions and hearthfire were back to normal, no visions of Ragnar's sons in sight.

Freydis clutched at my clothes. "What did you see?"

Berglijot roughly grabbed Freydis's shoulders and yanked her off of me. "We'll not be doing that again! The woman is pregnant with your future king, and you're having her breathe Frigg knows what!"

"What?" Thora asked innocently, suddenly looking alarmed.

I grabbed onto Berglijot's hand and shook. "There's a battle going on. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Ivar, they're all fighting Lagertha's troops! They're closer than we thought!" I swallowed and locked gazes with Berglijot. "And Bjorn Ironside will be coming in the bay by nightfall."


	51. 51: Love and War

I had thought hiding from Bjorn Ironside would be easy. There was no need for him to wander around my part of the city. Surely he'd stay near his mother and wife and children, right? But no! I stood with Ascrida to buy meat for dinner and had to nearly dive into a corner to hide from Bjorn as he strolled casually down the street. Bjorn hadn't noticed; he was too busy talking with Gunnhild the shieldmaiden as they walked the streets.

To make matters complicated, Siggy, who was practicing to become a midwife, had taken an interest in helping me with my pregnancy. I didn't show up to the great hall for the younger girl to examine me, and the princess of Kattegat tracked me down and stormed into the refugee house we were staying in.

"Why didn't you meet me at the great hall?" Siggy demanded the second she spotted me at the warm hearth. "Gunnhild was keeping an eye out for you."

I blinked at her and said the first lie that came to my head. "My feet were aching something fierce."

Siggy stared at me for a moment before shaking her head. "Fine. We'll have appointments here from now on. Odin knows I need more fresh air."

Berglijot loomed over Siggy the entire appointment as the younger girl looked between my legs and felt my rounded belly. "What else is bothering you? Just your feet?"

"My back too, getting up in the morning is awful." I replied. I looked up at Berglijot and the shieldmaiden nodded in agreement.

"I tried finding her some lavender," Berglijot informed Siggy. "Trygve said that his mother used lavender to relieve pain."

Siggy nodded in agreement. "My teacher said that lavender is good."

Berglijot narrowed her eyes. "Where is your teacher, the head midwife? Why isn't she taking care of Runa?"

Siggy didn't meet the older woman's eyes when she replied, "She is out to a farm, about a two day walk away from Kattegat. She hasn't come back yet."

I blinked. "Because of the invading army?"

Siggy's eyes flashed at me. "Yes. But she'll be back soon. I'm still not done with training and there are younger girls than me that need training up."

Berglijot and I exchanged a glance but said nothing. Hopefully the midwife was well enough to come back in time for me to have my baby. That was still four months away, I told myself, that was plenty of time for the head midwife to return to Kattegat.

Siggy changed the subject. "Back pain is normal in this stage. You can practice some stretches to help out the muscles in your back. Foot swelling will happen but if you soak your feet in an herb bath it'll help the pain die down."

Una snorted from where she sat, spooning mashed vegetables into the two year old Vigdis's mouth. "Whenever I got pregnant, the midwife just told me to deal with the pain. It's a part of being a mother. You deal with the pain and are rewarded with a child."

As if to emphasize this point, Una's twin children crashed into the room, tumbling over each other. Una hissed at Kari, who had been beside the hearth weaving, and the fifteen year old stood up to stop the twins from ripping the house apart.

"Also you should be feeling the baby move more." Siggy pointed out. "Don't worry when you feel them kicking at you when they want attention."

The idea of the baby moving inside of me sounded so foreign and horrifying that it took me a moment to respond. "Okay. How do I know what that feels like?"

Siggy scrunched up her face at me. "How would I know? I'm fourteen."

Siggy left a few minutes later, promising to bring some herbs for discomfort in a few days. Once she was gone, I got to work stoking the fire again, trying to keep the flames alive and warm. Kari, having returned from wrangling her younger siblings, smiled at the warmth and continued her weaving. Berglijot left to go find some food to cook up for supper.

The front door banged open after a few brief minutes of calm. Ascrida bounded into the room, right towards me. Ascrida ripped her cloak from her shoulders and shoved it onto me, nearly covering my face with the hood. I let out a cry of surprise as Ascrida shushed me loudly.

Heavy footsteps entered the house as Ascrida bent down and helped me into the cloak. "Don't let him see your face." She hissed into my ear. I nodded stiffly as the sound of heavy footsteps came closer.

"What's the meaning of this?" Una cried. "You have no right to barge into our home, Ironside."

The air in my lungs turned to ice. I felt my body stiffen as my heartbeat began to pound. Bjorn's footsteps had stopped just a few feet away from me. If I looked up, he'd be able to recognize me-

"The throne of Kattegat demands volunteers to go meet the enemy." Bjorn's voice sounded. It had been so very long since I heard the sound of Bjorn's voice, and now it made a shiver of fear go down my spine. "Queen Lagertha is going to try and talk peace with the sons of Ragnar."

"The last I heard," Una said bravely. "You were a son of Ragnar."

There was a pause. "And Queen Lagertha is my mother. Are there men living in this house?"

As if struck by the worst timing possible, I heard more footsteps enter and I risked a glance to see Magnus, Bjarni and his eldest son Alaric enter the house. The pair froze as Bjorn turned his gaze to them, a stoic expression on his face.

"You need volunteers?" Bjarni asked in a hesitant voice.

There was a silence and I imagined Bjorn nodding. "It's a peaceful meeting. We received word from a runner that the sons of Ragnar want to speak peace."

That didn't sound like them. I frowned, thinking back to the fireside vision I had of the brothers. They had been fighting hard, but it had looked like they were winning. Ivar had looked gleeful launching an ax into a shieldmaiden's face. Was Bjorn lying? Had Lagertha called this peaceful meeting instead?

"We leave tomorrow at dawn." Bjorn's voice cut right through my thoughts. "If you have any weaponry you'd like to bring, bring it."

"I thought you said this was a peaceful meeting?" Una snapped, worry and fear bouncing around her voice.

"And I don't remember asking your opinion, woman." Bjorn snapped right back. I tensed and risked a glance upwards towards the confrontation. Bjorn was barely looking at Una, as if he barely cared about whatever complaints she had.

Bjorn's eyes darted towards me.

I snapped back to the hearth and got busy poking at the glowing red embers, trying to keep the fire bright and warm. I could feel my face burn from the heat of the fire and also from the heat of Bjorn's gaze. The sound of footsteps was barely heard over the sound of my pounding heartbeat as Bjorn came closer and nudged my foot with his toe.

"You have an opinion, Hearthkeeper?" Bjorn asked darkly.

Footsteps scrambled behind me. I felt my arms shake with terror as I stopped poking at the embers. Ascrida's voice sounded. "Please sir, she's my sister. She doesn't talk."

"Why?" It sounded like Bjorn was right over me, glaring down.

"She was attacked," Ascrida lied on the spot. "The man who got her pregnant, hurt her so badly, he marred her face and she hasn't spoken a word since." Ascrida's sad story was met with dead silence, the only sound coming from the hearth as the flames crackled.

Bjorn hummed slightly. But he stepped away and I felt myself breathe again. He kept walking until he stood before Bjarni, Magnus, and Alaric. "You three will come to the front gate at dawn tomorrow. It's a long walk to the meeting spot." Without another word, he strode from the house and left.

For a moment, no one moved. I got up on shaking legs and crept over to the front door, keeping the hood low and covering my face. Bjorn was waiting in the street, meeting the glares he was getting from refugees as they passed him.

I felt my breath catch as Halfdan walked out of the refugee house opposite us. He was here too? Halfdan met with Bjorn and they shared a few words before leaving, continuing down the street to probably recruit more people for their meeting. I waited until they were gone before going back to the others.

Una and Bjarni were embracing, Alaric squeezed between them. Magnus had taken a seat and it looked like all the blood in his face had left him. Kari sat beside him, rubbing his arm and muttering into his ear. I walked around them all and met up with Ascrida.

"That was close." I said darkly. "How did you know he was coming here?"

"Freydis and I saw them heading this way." Ascrida explained. "I followed them and heard them saying that they were going to be going into homes. I ran here after that."

I blinked and smiled at her. "Thank you, Ascrida. If you hadn't, things could have gotten really bad."

Ascrida tucked a few locks of red hair out of her face and behind her ears, smiling back at me. "It's not a problem, Runa. If something bad happens to you, the rest of us will be in trouble as well." I nodded at that, my first thought thinking about how Lagertha would hurt anyone who conspired against her throne. But then I thought about how if they got away from Lagertha, they'd face the wrath of Ivar instead.

* * *

It had been four days since the three "volunteers" had left. Our house was worrying itself to death. Una could barely take care of Vigdis, leaving Kari in charge of the toddler. I chewed my lip until it bled, worried about Magnus. I had promised Queen Kwenthrith that I'd take care of him, and now he was marching into the unknown with Bjorn Ironside and Queen Lagertha. I busied myself by keeping the hearth brightly lit and hot.

On the night of the fourth day of them gone, Trygve approached me where I sat in my usual spot by the hearth. He watched me nurse the hearth for a moment before speaking. "Try to rest, Runa. You need your strength."

"I can't sleep, Trygve." I said, the tiredness obvious in my voice. "I can't get comfortable with this." I nodded down to my belly that stuck out. Every time I lied down, the baby enjoyed kicking my sides until I stood back up.

Trygve blinked, his own tiredness dulling his black eyes. "Go to sleep soon, Runa Hearthkeeper. I'll come check on you later." With that, he placed a kiss on the top of my head and went off to bed.

It seemed that the nickname Hearthkeeper was going to stick. It wasn't long after Bjorn had said it that the people in this house started using it, adding it onto my Viking name. How many more names was Bjorn going to give me?

I turned my attention back to the flames and poked the logs again, Sparks flew upwards and I watched them disappear into the darkness of the house. I looked back to the flames and immediately frowned. It looked like a face was looking back-

A sudden falling away feeling made me gasp in shock and I landed on my butt in a windswept and gray field. I blinked in surprise and scrambled to my feet, my pregnant belly making it hard to do much of anything.

"Ecbertsdottir!"

The voice that called for me was like the sweetest song. An overwhelming scent of roses invaded my nostrils and I turned around until I saw her.

The woman was tall and willowy, wearing leather armor and a soft pink cloak. A sword hung from her side, as did several knives. Hair as red as fire moved in a breeze that only she could have, and her hair was tied into a single braid that reached her waist. I stared, shock still reeling through me as she reached out her hand, a playful smile on her lips.

"Come," She paused. "Augusta of Wessex, Runa Ecbertsdottir, whichever name you prefer."

I walked forward on shaking legs, recognizing the aura of power and divinity that Odin usually portrayed in a more subtle way. This was a goddess, and she was beckoning me to come closer.

The goddess took my hand, entwining her fingers with mine. "Do you know who I am?" She asked in a gentle voice.

I looked her over, from her milky white skin to the bright red curls that framed her face. She was lean, but her muscles were hard and as she held my hand, I could feel the immense strength there. She could easily break my hand without much effort. I looked up into her face and could almost count the splash of brown freckles, and her eyes were a very warm golden brown. She smelled of roses.

I knew who she was.

"You are Freyja." I said in a hushed voice. The goddess of love and war beamed at me and it felt like the sun was shining directly onto my face.

"Are you overwhelmed?" Freyja asked. "I tend to have that effect on mortals. I can't imagine Odin dazzling you with his divine nature."

I couldn't really reply to that. Freyja had an energy around her that radiated warmth and strength and the overpowering scent of roses that threatened to gag me if I breathed too deeply. Freyja reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. She stared thoughtfully at my hair, which had been growing slowly but surely.

"I wept when the Christian cut your hair." Freyja admitted. "A cruel punishment; but it will grow." She dropped her hand from my face but continued holding my hand. "They will win a battle but lose a war, my dear Hearthkeeper."

Was that a prophecy of some sort? I wanted to question her, to ask her what she meant by that. But the goddess began to walk, gently tugging me along with her.

"There are some gods that would want you to not know what has happened on the battlefield." Freyja explained. "Many gods simply do not care about you or your plight. But I felt that you deserved some knowledge on the whereabouts of your loved ones."

I felt my heart skip a beat as Freyja brought me to the top of a hill overlooking a wide field. The woman who waited here for us was short and muscular, scars lining her midnight dark skin. Freyja nodded between the two of us. "This is a Valkyrie of mine."

A wave of cold went down my back when I remembered why Valkyries overlooked battlefields. "Someone will die today?"

Freyja nodded as the battlefield materialized in front of us. It clearly wasn't the full force of both armies, only a couple dozen from either side. On one side, Lagertha stood with Bjorn and Halfdan. On the other side, King Harald glared at his brother. Ubbe and Hvitserk stood on either side of Ivar's chariot, their horses looking ready to charge to safety.

My heart hurt at the sight of Ivar. He stood tall in that chariot of his, his hair looked like it had recently been braided back and I desperately wanted to run my hands through his hair again. I felt a stirring from deep inside of me and I ran a hand across my swollen belly.

I also saw Bjarni standing beside Alaric and Magnus. And I saw Ubbe see them. Ubbe's blue eyes stretched wide as he recognized them. Ubbe leaned over to Ivar's chariot and whispered something. Ivar's eyes darted until he found the three of them, and his entire body tensed.

The meeting between the leaders was still going even though we couldn't hear what they said. I saw Ivar snap something and everyone tensed. Bjarni took a side step in front of Alaric, ready to protect his son.

"This is happening in the daytime." I observed. "When did this happen?"

"This morning." Freyja answered, her voice sounded pensive. I turned my attention back to the battlefield the moment everyone down there snapped into a defensive position. Only half of Lagertha's forces looked ready for a fight, the other half were the civilians in the back who had been forced out here. Lagertha and Ivar snapped some words back and forth before King Harald moved first, launching himself towards Halfdan.

A battle began as the two brothers tore at each other. Ivar charged his chariot forward right towards Lagertha, but the queen dodged and slashed at Ivar as he passed. Several of the civilians started running away for their lives. I spotted Magnus and Alaric among them. Magnus had scooped the eleven year old up into his arms and started running clumsily away.

Bjorn was taking on both Ubbe and Hvitserk at the same time. Lagertha was battling-White Hair! I spotted Earl Frode and Ove fighting side by side. Halfdan and Finehair were still tearing at each other like animals. I started to follow their fight with eyes when I spotted someone who made the hair stand up on its end.

Heahmund was in the thick of the battle, fighting on the side of Ivar.

What was he still doing here? What was he still doing alive? I didn't realize I was squeezing Freyja's hand until she squeezed back.

I went back to Ivar's chariot. He was riding after the civilians, driving through them until he caught up to Magnus and Alaric. I watched him halt them, or just Magnus. Alaric shoved himself away from the meeting and ran even faster than Magnus to get away.

"What are they saying?" I asked, wanting desperately to hear the conversation.

"They're discussing you." Freyja replied smoothly. "Ivar the Boneless is being told you're pregnant now."

Right as she said it, Ivar nearly fell out of his chariot. I could see the shock and fright on his face. But then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"He knows," I breathed.

A dying scream pierced the air and the Valkyrie launched forward to grab the dying. I tore my eyes away from her watch her go and see who she picked up. Her dark head disappeared into the fray and reappeared, holding someone by the hand and flying upwards, dragging them with her. I stared at the soul and covered my mouth in shock.

"Bjarni." I gasped. The Valkyrie flew away, holding onto Bjarni's hand and moving fast. I turned quickly to Freyja. "Where is he going? Valhalla?"

Freyja nodded. I couldn't see Bjarni or the Valkyrie anymore, they had already flown too high. I thought about Alaric, running for his life away from the battle. I thought about Bjarni's four other children, sleeping safe in their beds at this moment. And Una…

"What do I tell Una?" I asked, mostly to myself. "She'll be heartbroken."

Freyja shrugged. "Tell her, don't tell her. The decision is yours, Hearthkeeper. If you tell her in the morning, she'll only know a day early. The people who ran are traveling back to Kattegat without the queen." She nodded to where Ivar and Magnus were separating.

Magnus was continuing his run after the others, Ivar was rounding his chariot back to the fray, a new light shining in his face. Despite the sadness that was welling in my chest, I smiled softly at the sight of him.

I wished I could really see him again.

Freyja squeezed my hand and the battlefield disappeared like mist in the morning. A fresh wave of overwhelming rose scent hit me as Freyja's hand evaporated from my hand and I felt myself fall back again.

A thump late, I opened my eyes to see that I was back in the refugee house in front of the hearth. I blinked in surprise at the suddenness of being back here, the abruptness of leaving the battlefield, and the sudden disappearance of Freyja.

I stared into the hearth, the face I had seen in the flames right before leaving was gone. Had it even been there? I frowned for a moment before deciding that yes, it had been there.

Footsteps sounded behind me and I looked to see Trygve coming out of his room to narrow his black eyes at me. "Runa, you need rest!" He exclaimed.

Feeling heavier with new knowledge, I didn't bother arguing with Trygve this time.


	52. 52: No Good Deed

Una retreated into the room she had shared with Bjarni, and she doesn't come out for weeks. Alaric gets the habit of bursting into tears at any moment, the twins constantly ask where their father has gone, and Kari has begun bottling up everything, suddenly in charge of her four younger siblings. The rest of us in the house try our hardest to help the grieving family, but it isn't easy.

Una had wailed when I admitted when I had seen in the vision from Freyja. She wept when Alaric and Magnus bolted home, both crying as they explained what had happened during the fight. But when Bjorn Ironside showed up to the house to officially apologize to the family about the loss of their patriarch, Una showed no sadness, only seething hate for the man who had dragged Bjarni into that fight.

I had hidden in my room, but listened through the crack in the door as Una squared her shoulders and took a step forward, blocking Bjorn from her children.

"My husband is dead." Una started in a low growl that grew into a snarl. "I don't want your sympathy, Ironside."

Bjorn, to his credit, had looked genuinely sorry. But that didn't bring Una's husband back. The moment Bjorn tried to reach out and maybe comfort her, Una hacked and spat a fat and juicy wad of saliva right into Bjorn's face.

"You bring shame to your father's name!" Una screamed in fury. Tears streamed down her face as she took another step forward, rage making her voice shake. "Ragnar Lothbrok would have never dragged unwilling men into a battle! You truly are your mother's son!"

I momentarily feared that Bjorn would attack her for saying these things, but he flinched very subtly, barely, and left the house. After that, Una had locked herself in her room and refused to come out for anything.

Ascrida and I did the best we could, brewing thick and hearty stews for the entire family, since none of them were eating well. The two year old, Vigdis, had still been breastfeeding, and we now had to feed the toddler soft food to keep her from starving. Freydis would return from different marketplaces with root vegetables and herbs, to thicken the stews and add extra nutrients. Trygve and Berglijot would often go hunting and return with plenty of rabbits and squirrels, and we added the meat and bones to the stews.

Magnus would help by taking each of the children in turn on long walks around Kattegat. He played with the twins in the forest, letting the mischievous children beat him at pretend sword fighting. He began feeding Vigdis the soft foods she now had to eat. He asked Alaric to teach him how to hunt and fish, and even though the boy was young and still working on being good himself, the two struggled through tasks together. Whenever Magnus disappeared with Kari, they always took Vigdis with them.

We tried our hardest to help the family grieve Bjarni, and we grieved him too. Bjarni had been the de facto leader of our group, he had taken charge back when we had first left Vestfold. Now that he was gone, everyone tried to help in any way they could unless directly told by someone else. That someone else usually ended up being me.

Thora came over a lot, since she had learned our secret about who we were, she had become an unofficial member of the group. The home she and her family lived in had a garden, and she brought us plenty of cabbage and peas, which were promptly added to the pot.

Time goes on and as I get bigger, the winter months get closer. I hear rumors in town that no army will want to fight in the winter. I fight the stab of fear that goes straight into my heart, but I don't want to live in hiding the whole of winter. I don't want my child to be fatherless until spring, let alone give birth in winter.

But the gods clearly didn't care what I wanted. Towards the end of my seventh month, Siggy confided to me that the midwife of Kattegat was most likely dead, so she'd be taking charge of all the care I needed. The day she told me this was the day the first snow began to fall.

I had seen snow in Northumbria, in the brief time I had lived there with Kenton. I had seen slush in East Anglia and Wessex, where the snow wouldn't last for that long. Nothing could have prepared me for the terrifying might of the snowfall in Kattegat.

That first snow didn't stop for six whole days, going from falling lightly to coming down hard. Any still water in the house froze if we left it alone for too long. My job as keeping the fire in the hearth alive was extremely important now, and my nickname of Hearthkeeper stuck even more.

Una arrived from her room to comfort the twins. Though she was still deeply saddened by the death of Bjarni, she still had five children who needed her.

As my time got closer, I never really left the house. Siggy braved the deep snow to visit me and check up on me. My feet ached even worse than before from the cold and Berglijot promptly made me extra thick socks to try and keep frost bite from attacking my toes.

The war that had hovered over Kattegat was pushed to the back of everyone's minds. Who wanted to fight in cold like this? I found myself squeezing my eyes tightly and trying not to think about how close Ivar and the others were. So close yet so far away. If my tears froze to my face, Freydis warned that tearing the frozen water off would be the immediate solution to keep the frozen skin from going black. Berglijot had cursed at Freydis for trying to frighten me.

One morning, after it had snowed for three straight days, the snows stopped. Trygve took Berglijot, Magnus and Alaric to the marketplace, to see if anyone would be willing to sell some extra food. Una and Kari took the youngest children on a walk after being cooped up inside for so long, leaving Vigdis because it was too dangerous to bring the toddler out into the cold. I stayed by the hearth while Freydis, Ascrida, and a visiting Thora sat around the hearth with me and worked on weaving.

A full bowl of bone broth sat beside me, and Thora kept giving it glances. "You should try to drink that, Runa. You need your strength." She nodded down to my stomach, which was so large now I couldn't see my toes even if I tried.

"My stomach's too upset to eat." I told her. "Everything I've eaten over the last couple of days, I've thrown back up. Besides, that broth is probably cold by now." Even as I spoke, a heavy cramp went through my belly, followed by a hard kick from the baby. I patted my belly, vaguely aware of Freydis eyeing the movement.

My attitude towards the former slave had definitely cooled, but she was still an odd one. I felt another kick from the baby and smiled softly. Despite my fear of giving birth, and the idea of bearing during this winter, I wanted to meet my child.

If I didn't see Ivar before the birth, I had names for a potential son or daughter picked out. He would just have to deal with the names that had been bouncing around my head ever since I found out I was pregnant.

A scream from outside pierced the air, turning the calm air around us charged with tension. I sat straight up as Thora rushed to the door. The moment she opened the door, I heard the cry that sent chills up my spine.

"They're attacking!"

"The sons of Ragnar have come for Kattegat!"

Already, I could hear the sound of steel meeting steel and a warhorn blasted.

Ascrida leapt to her feet, joy shining in her pale face. "They're here! Your child will have their father here, Runa!" I found myself frozen at her words and Freydis narrowed her eyes.

"Help me up?" I asked, reaching out for Ascrida. She hurried over past Freydis, who got up rather slowly, and Ascrida helped me to my feet. Once I had my balance under control, I started wobbling over to Thora-

A sudden rush of wet cascaded down my legs from between my thighs. I stopped breathing for a moment as I lifted my dress with shaking hands to see the puddle of liquid I was standing in, the water continuing to drop down from between my legs. I shakily looked back up to Ascrida and Freydis.

"The baby is coming." I said blankly.

A cramp that started from the base of my spine reached forward to my belly button and seemed to seize my insides. As I gasped at the sudden cramping, I cursed myself for ignoring the obvious cramps all morning and last night. Siggy had warned me what the cramps would feel like, and here I was ignoring them!

Thora ran back, slamming the door shut again and bolting it shut. She and Ascrida took either side of me and helped me back to my room and helped me onto the bed. Thora looked breathlessly between me and Ascrida, "Someone should go get Siggy. We _need_ her."

"I'll get her." Freydis volunteered from the doorway. She had adopted a strange kind of calm, like she was walking around in a dream. I sat up in bed as her pale head disappeared underneath a cloak and she left the house. Thora bolted the door again, just in case someone from either army barged in and attacked us, not realizing who we were.

I gripped my ankles and sat for a long time like that, huffing everytime a cramp came and gripped my insides. Nothing tried to knock the front door down, and we could still hear the sound of fighting happening somewhere outside. The battle was far enough away so it was distant, but they were definitely storming the walls right now.

Vigdis started crying and Ascrida hurried to get the toddler, and the four of us huddled in my room as the room got colder and sweat broke out on my forehead.

"Where is Freydis?" I hissed through gritted teeth as another contraction released me. They were getting worse. "She should be at the great hall by now!"

"The fighting hasn't made it inside yet." Ascrida muttered, as if trying to work out what could have happened.

The next contraction that grasped me actually got a small scream from me, the first one of the evening. Thora and Ascrida asked each other what to do, fear etched into their faces. Vigdis watched me with wide eyes, no doubt questioning everything that was happening in front of her.

"That's it!" I exclaimed before the next contraction could change my mind. "Come on. We're getting Siggy ourselves."

"Runa, you shouldn't hurt yourself!" Thora insisted.

"I'll hurt myself if I don't get Siggy." I snapped, getting off the bed without help. Not leaving them much of a choice, Ascrida and Thora took either side of me and they worked fast, fastening cloaks and warmer clothes. Ascrida tied Vigdis to her back and Thora opened the door and we all marched outside.

I hadn't been outside much for the last two months, and the thick snow was blinding white. I blinked at it for a long minute, throw off by the whiteness of it all. But then I felt a swift kick from my baby and stepped off the front steps and onto the icy street.

The snow had been cleared off the roads, but the snow that was pushed to the sides reached my knees. Thora took a spot beside me in case I needed her, and Ascrida, carrying Vigdis on her back, had grabbed a spare sword before leaving the house. The sword was dull from lack of use and there was no way Ascrida knew how to use it, but she was willing to defend us if the battle caught up to us.

A secret part of me wanted it to catch up to us. I wanted Ivar to ride in on his chariot and help me somehow. But until that happened, I had to help myself.

It was slow moving to the great hall where the royal family lived. As we moved, people were either running home to hide, or arming themselves to fight. Though there was no telling if they'd fight for the sons of Ragnar or for Queen Lagertha and her city. Whenever another contraction took me, I'd grab onto Thora and bear through it. By the time the great hall was within sight, I was sweating hard and my legs were shaking like leaves in the wind.

I knew how dangerous it would be to walk into the hall, knowing that Bjorn or Halfdan could be in there. But I cared about safely delivering my baby more than anything. If this baby died because I couldn't get a proper midwife to help me…

I pushed that toxic thought from my mind and struggled through the deeper snow. They hadn't bothered clearing this area. Footprints imprinted the snow, going to and from the great hall. I prayed that some of those footprints belonged to Bjorn and Halfdan.

A loud warhorn blast sounded from behind us, and I knew that it meant that the invading army had broken through the gates were running rampant through Kattegat.

 _I have seen the streets of Kattegat run red with blood of innocents and warriors alike._

The Seer's words all those months ago came back and I felt even colder thinking about that tidal wave of red washing over the city. Would the prophecy come true today?

A new contraction hit me, demanding attention and making me scream in pain, and I pushed the haunting words to the back of my mind. My child needed me now. I turned away from the rising sounds of battle and started for the entrance, Thora and Ascrida trailing behind me.

The great hall was dead silent when we entered and locked the door behind us. I started towards the throne when my insides seized again, feeling like the hand was deliberating stirring my entrails. I bit back my scream and struggled to breathe as I stood in the middle of the hall, waiting until the contraction subsided before continuing to go past the throne to where the royal family lived.

Little Erik was the only one in the main room. He was hiding behind a bench, his pale face tear stained and holding his hands over his ears. "Erik?" I said. The little boy stared at me with fear for only a moment before he recognized me.

"They're fighting." Erik whispered as I waddled closer.

"The people outside?"

Erik shook his head and I finally heard the raised voices coming from deeper in the large hall. Erik kept crying and I patted his head gently before going after them. I felt another contraction grab at my insides but I ground my teeth together and forced myself to keep shuffling forward, sweat breaking out on my forehead. When I got closer, I heard Bjorn and Lagertha's voices screaming at each other. Thora and Ascrida crept in after me, Ascrida's grip on the sword so tight she looked like she'd break her hand.

"They will kill you!" Bjorn screamed as I slowly entered the room.

"I am the queen of Kattegat!" Lagertha screamed wildly back at him. "My place is here until I die!"

Siggy, Guthrum, and Torvi were here as well. Siggy was crying with a bright red mark on the side of her face. Torvi was shielding her stepdaughter, looking ready to cry. It was Guthrum who saw me and broke away from his mother to charge towards me. "What are you doing here?" He snapped.

Bjorn turned around, saw me, and wordlessly, he charged towards me.

Bjorn's hand slammed against my throat as he pushed me against the wall, pinning me there. I vaguely heard everyone else in the room yelling in surprise, but I kept my eyes on Bjorn as I grabbed onto his arm, trying and failing to relieve the pressure on my neck.

"Let her go!" Ascrida screamed, raising the dull sword above her head, but Guthrum hurried and quickly subdued her. Vigdis started wailing from where she sat as Guthrum restrained them.

Thora charged forward and she began swatting at Bjorn with both hands, trying and failing to fight him off me. Bjorn barely gave Thora a glance before the back of his free hand flew and hit Thora in the jaw with such force, she fell to the ground and hit her head hard on the wooden floor. Thora was still after that and my undivided attention was on Bjorn Ironside, who was glaring at me with nothing short of hatred and fury.

"What the fuck are you doing here, _Augusta_?"

It was the first time I had heard my true name in months, and it was either that or the pain from him holding me by the neck or the pain in my belly that caused tears to spring into my eyes. Another contraction struck me and I moaned, unable to scream thanks to Bjorn's hand.

"She's having her baby!" Siggy screeched. Bjorn's daughter rushed forward and started slapping at Bjorn, trying to get him off of me.

Bjorn finally realized my swollen belly, and he looked down and his eyes stretched so wide. That was when he let go of my neck and I dropped to the ground, hitting my knees hard. Siggy was still trying to shove Bjorn away.

"I need…" I struggled to say. "I need Siggy. The baby is coming now." As if waiting for an opportunity, another contraction wrapped around me and I cringed and lowered myself even more on the hard floor, curling into myself like a dying bug.

"Why are you here, Augusta?" Bjorn asked again, not hiding the rage and not caring about the pain I was in. "Do they know who the father of your child is?"

I stood up shakily, using the wall for support. I stared at Bjorn right in the eyes, tired of the secrets, in too much pain to care. I snarled, "I am Augusta of Wessex. I am the Saxon bastard daughter of King Ecbert of Wessex. I left to be with Ivar the Boneless and I carry his child inside me. I came here to open the gates for them for when they invaded. But they've managed that without me, and I'm here now because I _need_ to get this baby out of me!"

There was a very long moment of silence that met my words. And as I looked from face to face, I saw everything from anger to betrayal to hurt. Bjorn was staring at my belly again, and as if I remembered it, another contraction hit me and I doubled over in pain, a thousand daggers stabbing my gut over and over again.

"You're the snake." Lagertha's voice came from far away. "The Seer warned me of you months ago. It was you!"

I straightened up in time to see Lagertha rushing towards me, hands outstretched and her fingers curled into claws. I flinched back against the wall just as Siggy shot out and started slapping her grandmother.

"She's a traitor!" Lagertha screamed.

"She's my friend and she needs me!" Siggy screamed back. Lagertha arched her hand back and her hand struck Siggy right on the red spot on Siggy's face and the young girl screamed in pain. I saw the flash of bright red and knew that Lagertha had slashed at Siggy's face with her overlong fingernails. Torvi hurried forward and grabbed Lagertha and dragged her away from Siggy, because the queen was still trying to attack her granddaughter.

Torvi had tears streaming down her face, the kohl lining her eyes streaming down with the tears. She held her mother in law and looked to Bjorn. Her brown eyes hardened and she swallowed what seemed like a new sob. "I don't care who she is. You said it yourself Bjorn; we need to get somewhere safe before that army reaches us."

"And let them tell the army where we've gone the moment they can?" Bjorn asked, he still hadn't taken his eyes from me.

I shook my head, breathlessly. The pain that burned deep within me seemed to be talking for me. "I don't care. If you are fated to survive this day, then you will regardless of what I do or don't say."

Siggy slowly approached me. "I don't care if you're a Saxon." She spun around to Guthrum. "Let her go. Ascrida go boil some water and bring it. Guthrum, make yourself useful and get every blanket you find."

The two of them blinked at the younger girl, who seemed to change before their eyes. But Guthrum slowly listened to his stepsister and Ascrida followed her orders faster than he did, but they both disappeared. Siggy turned to her stepmother.

"If you want to leave now, Torvi," Siggy started. "I think you should. What do you think, Runa?"

I nodded, barely comprehending what was happening. "Leave now, and I won't tell where you've gone. I swear it on the gods."

Torvi stared at me for a moment before nodded and she slowly let go of Lagertha to go into the front room but Bjorn's hand shot out and he grabbed her by the arm. "You're going to leave? You're trusting this Saxon traitor?" He asked.

Torvi steeled herself against his furious gaze. "Yes. I am. I am taking our children and leaving this forsaken city. The gods have cursed this place and there is nothing left for us here." She wretched her arm free and stormed away from Bjorn, presumably to go get Erik and baby Refil.

Bjorn turned darkly back to me. "You would go against Ivar to let us leave? Why?"

I couldn't answer because of a contraction. But when I recovered, I looked back up to Bjorn, letting the truth shine through my eyes. "I may have chosen your Viking life, but I'm still me. I want my child to live, and I don't want to see your family suffer for supporting Lagertha."

Bjorn and I locked eyes and his gaze softened ever so slightly. Though he didn't say it, I knew we were both thinking of the reason why I had killed Kenton so long ago.

Bjorn stared at me for a moment longer before turning abruptly to help Lagertha to her feet. Upon being released by Torvi, the queen had promptly collapsed to the ground, muttering about snakes and traitors and Kattegat. Bjorn stared at his mother for a long moment, his face going through dozens of emotions at once. Torvi suddenly reentered the room, carrying Refil and Erik trailing behind her. Guthrum came after her, his arms full of a pile of blankets. He dumped them at Siggy's feet and then joined his mother.

Finally, Bjorn looked to his family. "Get to the back tunnel. They shouldn't have reached it yet. Kill any enemy you find, Guthrum."

Torvi didn't look at me as she led her three children towards the back of the room, where an exit most definitely was. As Siggy turned her attention back to me, Bjorn knelt down on the ground beside Lagertha. I watched them for a moment before turning away, feeling that this moment was too private for reasons I couldn't understand. Siggy helped me limp back into the next room and we left Bjorn and Lagertha.

"Will she leave?" I asked in a hushed voice. Siggy looked like she couldn't answer my question. We hadn't even gone that far before Bjorn caught up with us, stone faced and silent as the grave.

"Are you leaving Siggy?" Bjorn asked gruffly, sounding oddly detached.

"No, Father." Siggy replied evenly, not sounding sad at all. "Kattegat clearly needs a midwife."

"Even though the sons of Ragnar would torture you for the crime of being my daughter?" Bjorn asked. I hobbled away; this definitely was a private matter.

Siggy winced at her father's words. "Yes." She said it a lot slower now. "If I leave, Runa and her baby could both die. I don't want their deaths on my head."

Bjorn looked like he could live with my death on his head. His face remained stoic as he gently reached out and tucked a straw colored strand of hair behind Siggy's ear. "You look so much like your mother." He whispered. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head; Siggy didn't respond, and looked extremely uncomfortable the entire time. When Bjorn released her, he strode away without looking back at her. He towered over me and I remembered back in Winchester, when we had been friends.

"I won't forget this, Runa." Bjorn said darkly. "But just know this, after today, you're my enemy again."

I blinked and found myself smiling up at him. "You are still my enemy at this moment, Bjorn Ironside. Now go."

Bjorn stared at me for a moment as if he didn't fully recognize me, but turned away without a word and disappeared into the next room to catch up with his family.


	53. 53: Wait for Me

There wasn't a lot of time to lose. Siggy propped me against a wall and ordered Ascrida to hold one side of me for when I needed to push. Ascrida put Vigdis on the ground and hurried to obey Siggy. Thora was still knocked out, a small amount of blood leaving her head. I had tried to pull her into the same room as us, but I had looked up to see another limp body laying in the middle of the floor.

Lagertha was still, her eyes wide and staring, looking like glass marbles instead of real eyes. The red smile on her throat told me everything I needed to know: after his mother had refused to leave, Bjorn had killed her to keep her from being tortured by Ivar, Ubbe, and Hvitserk.

 _It is by a son of Ragnar that Queen Lagertha will die!_

The Seer's last few prophecies were coming true in rapid succession and I hated it. I wanted the world to stop turning and for everything to slow down so that I could wrap my mind around it all. But a horrible contraction ripped through me and I screamed, tears forcing their way out from my eyes. Siggy stormed in and hauled me to my feet.

"We'll worry about Thora when that baby is out of you." Siggy snapped.

Siggy and Ascrida were too busy trying to get me ready to push that they didn't notice the new figure walking slowly into view. I stared at her and gaped for a moment; she looked like a ghost with her pale gold hair hanging to her elbows.

"Freydis," I gasped.

Siggy and Ascrida turned and looked, not bothered by her sudden appearance. Somewhere back in my mind, something didn't feel right. There was something different about Freydis…

"Quick!" Siggy ordered Freydis. "Take her other side-she needs to push."

My warm undergarments had been shed and my dress had been pulled up and tucked into my belt, allowing Siggy to perfectly see everything she needed to and exposing my lower half to the rest of the room. I leaned my back against the wall, Ascrida trying her damndest to hold me up as my bent legs shook violently.

Freydis moved forward slowly, like she was listening to Siggy. But there was a quiet rage brewing in the back of her eyes and the itch at the back of my skull insisted harder.

"Did you know that there are snakes out there in the world," Freydis said in her usual high and clear voice. "Where they strangle their prey?"

"Amazing." Siggy retorted. "We don't have the time, Freydis. Come and help."

My eyes wandered past Freydis and she sped up to join us. For a moment, I remembered the face I had seen before meeting Freyja. It looked like a tall and stooping figure was following Freydis.

"Who's with you, Freydis?" I barked.

Freydis froze, her eyes wide and suddenly scared. I glared at her through the contraction. "I can see him. Who is that?"

The smoky and stooping figure flashed me a wicked smile that sent chills down my spine. But then the god evaporated and the air in the room lightened and I knew he was gone, abandoning Freydis.

I wanted to question her more, but a wave pushing down my body ran through me and I screamed, nearly collapsing. Freydis came forward slowly and supported my other side and Siggy knelt in front of me. There'd be time to question her later, I told myself as every fiber of my being screamed in agony. Another wave rolled through me and I screamed through gritted teeth.

"Don't push!" Siggy told me. Sweat was dripping off my forehead and onto the younger girl, but she remained focused on where the baby would come out.

It took what felt like years of holding onto the baby and then pushing and struggling to breathe and my legs nearly collapsing underneath me, but I screamed and gave one final push and I felt the tiny body slid out between my legs and into Siggy's arms.

Dead silence filled the air and Freydis quickly dropped me, dropping me to the ground and dragging Ascrida with her. Siggy backed up and sliced the cord connecting me and my child. Wasn't it supposed to be crying…?

"What are you doing?" Ascrida snapped. I couldn't sit back up, my face was pressed against the cold wooden floor and I felt blood soaking my legs and dress. "I think she's hurt!"

Siggy was putting all of her attention on the baby. I couldn't see them, but I heard the short burst of breath from the baby and I sagged even more. They were alive…

"Runa!" Ascrida was crying. "Siggy, help! I think she's dying!"

"Fuck." Siggy cursed. The younger girl was in front of me, pressing her hand against my forehead and checking my lower half. "She's torn herself down there. Stay with us, Runa-"

Siggy was cut off by the dagger being plunged into her back.

Ascrida screamed and I forced my shaking arms to sit myself up. Siggy slumped onto the ground in pain, Freydis standing over her with a grim expression on her face. Ascrida was screaming at her friend and underneath it all, I could hear my baby crying softly.

They were exposed to the cold air, I realized. They needed me-

"Don't make me kill you, Ascrida." Freydis said coldly. She turned to glare down at me, hatred burning openly in her eyes.

I glared right back up at her. "Which god was with you? Which one told you to do this?"

"No one told me to do this." Freydis snapped. "I've wanted to for months now, maybe this whole past year. He just gave me the confidence to do so."

"Fucking why?" I spat. I could see my baby now, laying by themselves on a table way out of my reach.

Freydis glared down at me, fury etched in every aspect of her beautiful face. "Runa, you let them go!"

I shuddered in pain, my legs shaking violently. "I let them try." I whispered up at her, not knowing if she could even hear me. But Freydis's face twisted with fury so I was pretty sure she did.

"When I first saw you, I believed you were a goddess." Freydis snarled. "A deity made flesh to come and secure victory for Ivar the Boneless. But then I saw you dirty, shaved, beaten down by a Christian priest, and I knew you were no god. But then I wondered: why you? Out of all the devoted women, why did they choose you? Why did the brothers _trust_ you and _protect_ you and _love_ you? Bjorn Ironside just let you go when he should have smashed your brains against the wall! Why did Ivar the Boneless, the most ruthless Viking, love a filthy Christian cunt like you?"

All of the jealousy and hate that Freydis had been hiding for so long spewed from her mouth. Ascrida was crying silent and angry tears, but I kept looking towards my child. Already I could feel a heavy darkness cloud over my senses.

"Please Freydis," I whispered. "Whatever you feel for me, don't hurt my baby. I'm begging you."

Freydis smiled cruelly. "Perfect. That's just what I want you to do." She walked away from me and towards my child, but as she moved away, the black fog got heavier and thicker.

"Stop." I barely managed to get out. I reached out a hand and my hand worthlessly slapped the top of Freydis's foot. My vision went black, and the last thing I heard was the sharp cry of a baby.

* * *

I opened my eyes and I was on a longship, empty besides myself and two other figures that were sitting beside each other, waiting for me to realize what was happening. I immediately recognized the midnight skinned Valkyrie who I had seen with Freyja. She nodded a greeting to me and I looked to the other woman.

I didn't recognize her at first. She was shorter than me, her dark brown hair tied back with a dusty red wrap. Faint lines appeared beside her eyes as she beamed at me. Emotion flooded through me when I recognized my smile, my dark brown eyes.

Constance stood up from her seat and she extended her arms, her smile so wide that her eyes were closing.

I rushed forward and fell like a little girl into my mother's arms. I buried my face into her shoulder, dug my fingers into her clothes, feeling the rough peasant's clothes. Constance hummed slightly as she held me tightly. For a long moment, we didn't break the spell of the embrace; we were making up for nearly fourteen years of missed hugs.

"I've missed you so much." I whispered into her shoulder, breaking the silent spell.

"I've missed you too, my little Gust." Constance whispered back. I felt more tears burn my eyes; how could I have forgotten that old nickname? Constance had always likened me to a gust of wind. We broke our embrace and her hands held my face, her dark eyes taking in my appearance. "You're almost older than I'll ever be."

I blinked. "I'm dead?" I stopped staring at Constance and looked to the Valkyrie. The Valkyrie shook her head and Constance brought my attention back to her.

"You are not supposed to die yet, little Gust." Constance admitted. "I'm told things went badly during your labor. Your god-the one with one eye-set this up. Although it's not your time, he wants you to have a choice."

I looked between her and the Valkyrie. "A choice between what?"

The Valkyrie stood up and spoke for the first time. "You come with me and I'll escort you to Valhalla. Odin says that before you came here, you were fighting to save your child. You go with your mother, and she takes you to...wherever her afterlife is."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to die yet?"

"If you want to live," The Valkyrie continued. "Go into the water."

I looked down to the sea below us; it was nearly black and dangerous looking. The waves were choppy but the boat remained completely still. Constance and the Valkyrie were waiting for me. I turned back to my mother.

"I have to go back." I told her.

"I know." Constance replied. "Your child needs you, your husband needs you. There are many people who need you there, Augusta."

I flinched at the sound of my real name, the name she had given me. Constance approached me and gently rubbed my shoulder. "I know this hurts. Believe me, I know all too well. But I want you to know that if you choose to go, I'll be walking beside you the whole time."

I vaguely remembered something I had been told and I closed my eyes as another stab hit my heart. "Ghosts will walk with you for the rest of your days." I quoted the Seer from all those months ago. I looked to my mother again. "I need to be a mother, I just wish-"

Constance smiled at me, sadness brimming in her eyes. "I know. We only have the time given to us. You will be great, Augusta." Though it looked like she might start crying. "You weren't meant to be seen and not heard. I love you, my little Gust."

I hugged Constance once again, trying to put all my love and regret into that one embrace. When we separated, I nodded to the Valkyrie who nodded right back. I smiled sadly at Constance before leaping over the side of the boat and letting the black water overcome me.

My eyes jerked awake and I was back on the floor of the great home. Weakly, I straightened myself up to see Ascrida laying on the ground, clearly in pain. I could hear noises happening from the next room, the room that led to the outside. I glanced back to the table where my baby had been, and saw that they were gone.

Fury took hold the moment I realized that Freydis took them. I forced myself to my feet, my legs buckling and pain shooting up my gut from my vagina, where the tearing had happened. I forced myself forward, a red cloud of rage appearing at the edge of my vision.

When I rounded the corner, I saw Freydis staring at the door. Someone was on the other side, trying to bust their way in. Freydis wasn't holding my baby.

I struggled forward, armed with nothing but rage. A loud screech I barely recognized as my own was ripped from me as I charged Freydis, slamming myself into her and knocking her hard to the ground. Freydis screamed in fright and surprised; no doubt she thought I was dead.

I crawled like an animal on top of Freydis the moment she was knocked down. Her hands slapped hard at me, hitting my face and shoulders several times. I straddled her waist, pinning her down; I did weigh more. As Freydis continued to slap and claw at my face and neck, I brought my hands down and wrapped my hands around her pale white throat.

Freydis's throat was soft underneath my hands. The red on the edge of my vision was clouding over everything making everything look red. Except for Freydis's face. Her pale white face was turning blue. Her mouth was wide and gaping like a fish and I found myself thinking that she didn't look beautiful anymore with her body writhing under mine as she struggled to escape.

Like a fish out of water.

Distantly, I heard the thundering pounding against the doors to the great hall. My teeth ached from grounding them together so tightly. My hands felt like they should be shaking and spasming, but I squeezed harder. Freydis's pale eyes bulged and it looked like those pretty eyes might pop out of her skull. The red was blocking everything else from my vision and the only thing I wanted to hear was Freydis struggling to breathe.

I didn't notice when she stopped moving. I didn't notice when the last strangled breath left her body and she died. I just kept tightening my grip on her pale white throat. I didn't notice when the doors burst open and footsteps rushed inside. I didn't notice the hands grab my wrists, prying me off of Freydis's limp corpse.

The only thing I noticed was the high pitched wail of a baby in the corner of the room.

I started thrashing against the hands that held mine. The red still clouded my vision and I couldn't tell who they were, and couldn't hear what they were saying. All I heard was my baby wailing for me, for their mother.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, my voice sounded like it was being ripped out of my throat by force. The hands held on tighter to my wrists. They were blood stained.

"Runa!" The voice yelled from what sounded like miles away. "Runa, it's me! Augusta!"

The baby's wail was louder.

I snapped my head back and smashed my forehead into the nose of whoever was holding me and they let go fast. I launched backwards from them and tried to stand, only to fall back onto my face, the air temporarily gone before I heard the baby cry again.

Clawing at the wooden floor like some kind of animal, I dragged myself to the corner where the baby's cries were coming from. Nothing else mattered except that baby, I could only hear it's wails and my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I made it to the corner and found a covered basket there. I hurried and took the basket top off, revealing a newborn wrapped in a musty blanket wailing their head off. And I got my first look at my baby.

Dark hair coated their head, and their little face was pinched up and red as they screamed. I gently took them out of the basket, pulling them close to my chest and immediately making shushing noises and rocking back and forth.

The wails faded into whimpers, and I felt tears rush down my face as I clutched the baby close to my chest. No one was ever going to take them away from me again, I swore that by Odin and Thor and Frigg and Freyja and every fucking god there was, including the Christian god.

"Augusta?" A different voice echoed around my head for a moment before snapping to clarity. I glared up at the person crouching a few feet away from me, as if they were cornering a wild animal. The wide blue eyes made me blink.

"Ubbe?"

Ubbe Ragnarsson had a thick beard now, and he was staring at me with fear. "Augusta, are you okay?"

I glared past him and saw Hvitserk kneeling beside Freydis; his nose looked broken. Sheildmaidens and warriors were filing past, pretending like they didn't notice me. I held my baby closer to my chest and that caused Ubbe to look down as he processed what I held.

"Augusta," He started slowly. "Is that your baby?" He made a move to come closer and I drew back, glaring furiously at him and keeping my whimpering child as far from him as possible. Ubbe stopped. "I won't take him, I swear. You need to see a midwife, Augusta. If you don't, you will die."

"Siggy's in the other room. Get her." I growled.

Ubbe blinked in alarm but nodded and rushed off himself, his blue eyes still wide and worried. I focused on Hvitserk and he was looking at me as if he didn't know me. When Hvitserk didn't say anything, I looked back to the baby and lifted the musty blanket that wrapped them.

My son had strong legs that kicked the moment the blanket was loosened. I had a son.

Hvitserk slowly approached me, ignoring the blood that coated his nostrils and mouth. "Runa," His voice sounded so thick from blood. "Come on." He gently stood up and offered his hands to me to take; I got up without his help and walked on wobbly legs after Hvitserk. He took me to a bedroom and he gestured to the bed covered in furs. "Rest here until we can get a midwife."

I put my son in the center of the bed without a word and sat down on the edge, flinching hard at the sparks of pain that shot up from between my legs and up my gut. Hvitserk looked like he wanted to say something, but he changed his mind and left the room.

My son slept soundly on the bed, just a few feet away from where I sat on the edge of the bed. As he slept, his mouth moved silently. I watched him, eyes burning. It didn't make sense, but I felt if I looked away, something bad would happen. Freydis's body still laid in the front room of the great hall.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were leaving me alone, and I decided I would properly greet them later. Until then, I wanted to keep vigil over my son.

"Where is she?" A hauntingly familiar voice sounded from somewhere beyond the open door. I turned away from my son finally and stared in the direction of the voice.

"Ivar," Ubbe's voice sounded. "Runa's not feeling well right now-"

"What are you talking about? Where is my wife?"

"She's...recovering."

"Recovering from what?"

"We think she had a baby, Ivar." Ubbe snapped. I got up on wobbly legs and crept to the doorway, glancing back at my son. "She won't let anywhere near it. We walked in on her strangling a dead girl. She even broke Hvitserk's nose!"

My son let out a high pitched cry and I wobbled back to the bed immediately, my curiosity gone. He was squinting and blinking, and I gasped softly when I saw his eyes.

My son had mismatched eye colors. One eye was ice blue, the other was a dark brown, so dark it looked black. I smiled wide at him, gently reaching out and stroking his face with my fingers.

I barely heard Ivar limp into the room, now using a singular crutch. I looked away from my son and stared at Ivar as he stood in the doorway.

We stared at each other for a long time where neither of us moved. The braids holding back Ivar's long hair were falling apart, and several flyaways haloed his face. A splatter of blood had dried along his face, making him look paler and his eyes even bluer. Despite the eight months we had spent apart, he still looked like the same man. He limped forward slowly and I stood up from the bed. I wondered how different I looked to him.

Ivar limped until he stood right in front of me, his blue eyes darting around my face as if checking every detail. I counted the faint brown freckles on his face, the dark eyelashes he had. Unshed tears burned the back of my eyes. "Ivar-"

He dropped the crutch and it clattered to the ground loudly. Ivar grabbed the side of my face and pulled me into his chest, folding me into his arms and holding on tight. I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight, crumbling with emotion at the fact that he was finally here, we were finally together again.


	54. 54: Together Again

When Ivar was able to let me go, he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed and stared at the tiny, pink faced baby wrapped in a bundle. His face was blank as he watched my son- _his_ son-noiselessly mouth the air. His mismatched blue and brown eyes were closed, but I wanted him to open them again, to show Ivar. Ivar slowly reached out and he traced our son's soft and pink jaw.

"It's a son?" Ivar asked, barely audible.

"A son," I replied, my own voice practically nonexistent.

"I have a son," Ivar breathed. His son squirmed slightly and Ivar's hand flinched away. As if he was afraid of hurting him. Ivar looked back up to me, his eyes suddenly scared. "Is he…?" He paused and swallowed, gesturing down to his braced legs. "Is he like…"

 _Is he like me._

I smiled softly at him before reaching over and removing the blanket covering his legs. Ivar's eyes glistened at the sight of the kicking baby legs. A massive exhale escaped him and Ivar's shoulders slumped with relief. He roughly wiped his face and he stared at the specks of blood that came off his face. "Did you name him?"

I blinked and nodded. "You know how I get visions sometimes, Ivar?"

This sentence had once been crazy sounding to me, but now it seemed as casual as asking about the snow outside. Ivar nodded at me, continuing to send several glances to our son.

"I got a vision months ago, before I knew I was pregnant." I explained. "Aethelwulf is dead. I don't know how he died. But Odin decided to show me my brother dying. I couldn't really name my son Aethelwulf, now could I? So I asked a few people what a good name meaning wolf was." I paused and I could practically feel my gaze soften when I looked back to my son, named after the uncle he'll never meet. "His name is Bjomolf."

"Bjomolf Ivarsson," Ivar muttered. He gently grabbed onto the baby's foot and held on when Bjomolf tried kicking him off. "I am sorry about Aethelwulf." He glanced between me and Bjomolf. "But now there is a child who can do all the things your brother couldn't. He could become king and rule for years." Bjomolf suddenly let out a loud cry and I flinched at the sound.

Ivar's eyes suddenly got wide as he took in the state of me. From the dark blood that was seeping through my dress, to the scratches on my face from Freydis's fingernails. "Augusta!" Ivar exclaimed. "Sit down now!"

I picked up Bjomolf and carefully took his spot, resting my back against the headboard of the bed. Bjomolf blinked up at me momentarily before closing his eyes again. "I need Siggy." I said breathless with pain. "I heard her say that I got torn during labor. I don't know how hurt she is, but she got stabbed, I think."

"Siggy? Bjorn's daughter?" Ivar asked.

I blinked at him, remembering what Bjorn had said about Siggy being tortured for the crime of being his daughter. I narrowed my eyes at Ivar. "Siggy is the only midwife in this entire city. If she doesn't help me, I am dead."

Ivar didn't miss my passive aggressive statement and he straightened. "I won't hurt Bjorn's daughter. I'll make sure someone patches her up and bring her here." He looked over to the leather flaps that separated us from the rest of the great hall. "I'll be back, I swear it." He kissed my forehead, snatched his crutch up, and limped out of the room. Almost the moment he was gone from my sight, I heard Ivar scream, "I have a son!"

"Your father seems happy." I muttered to Bjomolf. My son blinked up at me, his blue and brown eyes staring at me. His little brow was furrowed, and the dark hair on his soft head was sticking up and wild looking. The more I stared at him, the more I loved him. "My little wolf."

Bjomolf blinked and yawned in response. I smiled and brought my head down and touched his forehead with mine. "I love you, little wolf. I swear I won't let anything happen to you."

We weren't alone for long before Siggy was helped into the room by Ubbe. Siggy's eyes welled up with tears the moment she saw Bjomolf and she let out a loud sob. "He's alive! I was so scared! I thought that Freydis had hurt him somehow!" The younger girl rushed forward and embraced me, and it struck me how young she really was.

Ubbe was still staring at Bjomolf. "He's really yours?"

I heard the underlying question. He's really Ivar's? I narrowed my eyes at him and nodded. Siggy wiped her eyes roughly and sniffled loudly. "Have you fed him yet? And I need to check your vagina, to see how bad the tearing is."

Ubbe was gone five seconds later.

Siggy told me everything her midwife teacher had taught her about helping the baby latch onto my breast. The moment Bjomolf began suckling, Siggy checked me and sucked in her breath. "He sure did a number on you." Siggy commented quietly. "Wait here, I need some supplies."

"Siggy," I said. "Where did Freydis hit you? Are you okay?"

Siggy smiled slightly. "She didn't get me anywhere important. I'm tough to kill." And with that she left the room to get whatever supplies she needed. I sighed heavily, realizing that I forgot to ask about Ascrida and Thora. Were they okay too?

I got my answer when Ascrida hurried into the room and did the same as Siggy, embracing me tightly and crying hard. Her red hair was frazzled and there was a gash on her cheek. "I swear I didn't know! Freydis was my friend!"

I believed her. Ascrida had always been more loyal than Freydis, and she was sobbing right now. "Where's Thora?" I asked.

"One of the Ragnarssons got a healer for her. She might be waking up now." Ascrida reported, fat tears still rolling from her eyes. She looked down to where Bjomolf was still nursing from my breast, not paying any attention to the reunions happening around him. Ascrida smiled widely at him. "He's beautiful, Runa."

Siggy finally returned, a bucket of boiling water in one hand and an armful of supplies with her. "Oh good Ascrida, you're here. Come help me." Siggy got down to business. "I hope he's almost done; you need poppy seeds to dull any pain and you can't nurse for a few hours afterwards."

Ascrida held Bjomolf as Siggy worked on me. I dug my fingers into the blankets as Siggy stitched me back up. Ascrida helped by keeping Bjomolf in my sight so that I could still watch over my son. Siggy was in the middle of working when Thora appeared in the room, the cut on her head stitched up and her eyes brightened the moment she saw everyone alive and Bjomolf safe. Siggy finished and helped me into a belt and napkin, explaining that I'd be bleeding heavily for a few days, maybe weeks. Afterwards, it was the four of us sitting on the bed, passing Bjomolf around so that everyone held him. Despite my fear of Bjomolf being taken, of the shadow I had seen hovering over Freydis, I didn't fear Bjomolf being with these women.

Ivar came in a few minutes later with Hvitserk trailing after him. They both blinked in surprise at the group I had acquired, but Ivar didn't seem to care as he limped around the bed to sit next to me. He had cleaned the blood from his face and he didn't waste time melting and slumping hard against me, staring at Bjomolf, who was back in my arms. Hvitserk took a spot on the bed, plopping himself right next to Thora. My friend looked extremely awkward at the sudden appearance of the two men, but Ivar and Hvitserk ignore her for the most part.

"I'm sorry for breaking your nose, Hvitserk." I said sheepishly.

Hvitserk smiled, his blood staining his lips faintly red. "Not an issue. I think the broken nose makes me look better, like a scar." He turned to Thora and raised his eyebrows. "What do you think?" Thora turned bright pink and didn't answer.

Siggy soon left, uncomfortable with Ivar and Hvitserk being around. Ascrida and Thora helped her and promised to see me tomorrow. Ivar ignored them and was still slumped hard against me, gently grabbing onto Bjomolf's tiny feet and releasing them before grabbing onto them again. Hvitserk stared long and hard at the baby until he finally looked back to me.

"Do you think Sigurd has a child?" Hvitserk asked quietly. "He and Blaeja have been married longer than you two. It's almost-" He paused. "Time for that holy day you told me about, Runa. Remember? The big one about the god's son who died."

"Christmas." I said simply. "They might have. It's been enough time, and a part of the queen's job is to have heirs." I glanced down to Bjomolf and huffed slightly in amusement. "The sooner East Anglia has an heir, the better."

"Funny," Ubbe said, entering the room again looking bone tired. "Finehair was saying something very similar. Before we left, he was really trying to get Queen Astrid pregnant."

Hvitserk gasped sharply and gently nudged me with a single finger. "You weren't there! Minutes before we left, Margrethe comes running down to the docks to tell Ubbe that she was going to have his son."

I blinked up at Ubbe. "Margrethe is pregnant?"

Ubbe shuffled his feet. "She was when we left. The only thing is, she can't get here until spring. The plan was for us to take back Kattegat, and Finehair would go back home, tell Margrethe and a few others that Kattegat was safe, and then she'd sail here. But now that it's truly winter-"

"Margrethe and those few must stay in Vestfold." Ivar finished without looking at Ubbe; his eyes were still for Bjomolf. "Finehair is trapped here too. We found him some suitable quarters before coming back here."

"What happened in the battle?" I asked. "I was preoccupied."

"Well, we won." Hvitserk said dryly.

"Lagertha's troops are either dead or fleeing." Ubbe gave me the straight answer. "Earl Frode is in charge of burning the bodies right now. The people of Kattegat fought alongside us. I heard from someone that the Seer is dead?"

I nodded. "Lagertha burned him alive in front of everyone. He had predicted her downfall."

Ivar finally straightened. "Who did kill her? I saw the body."

"Bjorn did." I said and a shiver of surprise went through all three of them. "We were looking for Siggy to help deliver the baby. Walked right in on Bjorn killing her. He knocked out Thora, nearly tried to kill me, but let me go. For old times sake, I suppose."

"Where is he now?" Ivar pressed.

I shrugged, knowing perfectly well that that was the whole truth. The brothers all looked at each other. Ubbe finally sat at the edge of the bed, scratching his thick beard. "It'd be a miracle to find him in this weather. His footprints could still be out there."

Hvitserk stood up. "I'm ready to chase him down." He looked to Ivar in what I at first thought was an invitation to come with, but then I realized with a jolt that it was a request to go track down Bjorn.

Ivar nodded at his older brother. "Don't kill him if you find him; he needs to be brought back." Hvitserk nodded curtly before hurrying out of the room, off to presumably follow Ivar's orders. Hvitserk was older!

My Saxon ways were still ingrained in my head, I realized. I was so used to the older brother being given everything while the younger had to be more obedient. Alfred, despite being King Ecbert's favorite, couldn't be king before Aethelred. Aethelred would have gotten everything and Alfred would have had to settle no matter what. But then again, Aethelred was dead now and Alfred was king.

Ubbe said goodbye and left, and I immediately turned to Ivar and admitted my confusion on what had just happened. Ivar blinked and straightened.

"Before we left for Vestfold," He started. "Ubbe, Hvitserk, and I had a long conversation about what we wanted. Hvitserk doesn't want to rule, Ubbe wants to live a nice life, and neither of them want to be king. Father would roll in his grave if the throne was given to someone like Harald Finehair."

"And you, Ivar?"

Ivar looked me deep in my eyes. "I want to be the greatest Viking the world has ever seen. As King Ivar the Boneless, I think I can do that." He rolled over onto his side, sliding back down again until he was laying. "But I'll only be king if you'll be queen. We are already married, but I want to make sure you're willing to rule by my side."

I smiled softly at him, loving him so much in that moment. "I don't know the first thing about ruling, Ivar. Ecbert never taught me the way he taught Aethelwulf, Aethelred, and Alfred."

"And I was never taught, Augusta." Ivar admitted. "But you are smart and I am strong; I think we could figure it out."

It wasn't that I was worried about. I was more worried about how the people of Kattegat would react to a Saxon as their queen. I had lived among them for months, gotten to know a fair amount of them like the ones who ran my favorite market stands, but I had seen the way their hate boiled over for Lagertha. Towards the end, if the Ragnarssons hadn't decided to attack when they did, the people of Kattegat would have revolted without them.

Ivar seemed to be reading my mind. He narrowed his eyes and rolled over onto his belly. "Augusta, you are not Lagertha. You've been living with them for months now! They already know you."

"I know." I muttered. "But you didn't see how intense it was getting, Ivar. After Bjarni was killed during that meeting, I watched his wife spit in Bjorn's face. People in my neighborhood were cursing Lagertha, saying that the gods had abandoned Kattegat."

"The gods never abandoned Kattegat." Ivar insisted. "You were here, Augusta. Odin himself chose you to be his messenger in these times, so surely he at least has Kattegat's best interests at heart."

I stared at Ivar and felt a smile slowly come across my face. "Thank you, Ivar." I thought about it. " _King_ Ivar."

Ivar smiled wolfishly at me and he muttered. "You are welcome, _Queen_ Runa." He looked down to Bjomolf and got close enough to rest his chin on my elbow, staring down the tiny baby in my arms. "That makes him the heir to the throne of Kattegat. _Prince_ Bjomolf?"

I watched Ivar for a long moment, and he seemed just content to stare at Bjomolf. These were the two most important men in my life, I thought. Ivar was my husband, but Bjomolf was of my blood, someone blood related to me who would be here forever. I thought about Ubbe and Hvitserk somewhere outside this room, I thought of Siggy, Ascrida, Thora, the others at the refugee house.

Home wasn't a place. Home was people who loved you and helped you whether you needed them or not.

* * *

 **A/N: So these last three chapters were all one chapter when I first wrote them and it was over 10,000 words...so I had to split them up to avoid a monster of a chapter. I've still got a lot of ideas and plots planned for this story, but I'm starting my Bachelor's degree in history education next week so I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update. But rest assured, I'll try to update as often as I can as long as inspiration is there.**

 **Thank you to everyone who ever reviewed because I do read every single one and I'm so happy that y'all seem to be enjoying the story, I'm having a blast writing it! Thank y'all for reading and being the best readers I could have asked for.**

 **\- Katie**


	55. 55: Dream Walking

Despite the fact that a victory had been won, there wouldn't be a feast of mass proportions. It was still winter, and a feast would take too long to prepare. But the townspeople of Kattegat celebrated on their own with the warriors and shieldmaidens, dancing and playing music in the streets and having their own festivities.

Inside the Great Hall, the festivities were quieter. Ubbe brought enough ale and Hvitserk had taken down some rabbits while he was hunting Bjorn, and the two of them got to work making a meal in the hearth of the Great Hall.

Siggy returned only briefly to talk to me, bringing with her something that was called Mother's Soup. It was a hot concoction of pickled pig's feet, garlic, wild greens, leeks, and boiled ale. I wrinkled my nose at the stew as Siggy explained that it would shrink my womb, rid my body of stagnant blood, and bring my milk in. She stayed until I finished, watching me as I drank the whole bowl and she quickly went on her way once I was done. For a moment I questioned why she was trying so hard to avoid me when I remembered the three men settled around the hearth behind me.

Ubbe watched Siggy go, his eyes narrowed. "What are we going to do with her? She supported Lagertha."

Ivar didn't even look up from the hearth. "We remove her from any line of succession and let her live as the head midwife." He glanced up at me. "Siggy's the only midwife in the city. If she dies, we're without someone who could help."

Hvitserk threw me a look. "If she dies, Runa could die, you mean?"

"Yes." Ivar admitted without looking at his older brother. He glanced back to me and Bjomolf in my arms. "Siggy lives so long as she does her midwife job and nothing else."

Ubbe and Hvitserk shot each other looks but neither of them commented on Ivar's decision. I joined them around the hearth, taking my spot beside Ivar and accepting the roasted rabbit leg he immediately passed to me. I nibbled on the leg, the Mother's Soup heavy like a rock in my gut. Eventually, after I barely eat the rabbit leg, Hvitserk took it away and wolfed it down for me.

The three brothers each took turns holding Bjomolf. Ubbe looked the most comfortable holding him, kissing my son's face gently with his beard tickling Bjomolf's face. I could hear him whispering something to Bjomolf, but I couldn't hear exactly what was being said.

Ivar mostly enjoyed watching Bjomolf. Whenever he actually held Bjomolf himself, Ivar was stiff and nervous. He still seemed like he was scared of hurting the infant. I knew Ivar would never do anything hurtful on purpose, but his tenseness put me on edge and I found myself watching him out of the corner of my eye the entire time Ivar held Bjomolf.

The sun went down all too quickly. Ubbe and Hvitserk claimed their own rooms, while Ivar claimed the biggest room for us to share. Hvitserk added to the room by finding a cradle for Bjomolf. Ivar promised we'd get everything settled tomorrow, from the thralls who'd work in the great hall to what food we'd eat. I ended up falling asleep fast; before Ivar had even removed his leather armor and getting in bed.

Immediately, my dreams swept me across the sea. I let the scene around me focus and come into clear view, figuring that Odin was going to show me something important. I paused at that thought and snorted in amusement, not failing to see the humor in me trusting a god to show me what I needed to know.

When the vision around me settled, I stiffened when I recognized the ghostly hall. This was the main hall in Winchester. A feast was happening around me. I immediately recognized the Saxon clothes and the Saxon music filling my ears. Winchester had already begun hanging their Christmas decorations, but these celebrations weren't for Christmas. I recognized several members of the court, and the high end families from all over Wessex, and I walked among them as I once did. None of them noticed me, and I knew that none of them could see me.

I approached the high table and smiled sadly when I saw Judith. She wore a black mourning gown, still grieving her husband. A thin black veil covered her face and I couldn't help but notice some servants casting nervous glances at her. Why?

I spotted Alfred and instantly knew why.

Alfred was dancing with the crown of Wessex on his head. And he was dancing with a young woman dressed in a white wedding gown. Realization hit me like lightning when I realized that this was Alfred's wedding feast, and Judith wearing black was a bad omen. No wonder the servants were throwing the queen mother concerned glances.

I moved closer and got a good look at Alfred's wife-the new queen of Wessex, I realized. Her hair was long and dark, curled softly and flying freely as Alfred spun her around. The tiara on her head had a thin silver veil sewn into the back of it, and the veil followed her like a ghost. Her face was nice and long, and she was beautiful. I stared at her for a long moment, trying to recognize her; if she was marrying the king, she had to be highborn. I looked back to the party goers and saw that only highborns from Wessex were here, so she had to be from Wessex.

The music stopped and the young king and queen applauded politely before making their way back up to the high table. I followed after them, feeling that they were the reason I was here. Alfred took his spot on the throne and his new wife took the place at his side, beaming with pleasure and I realized she was the happiest looking bride I had ever seen.

"Long live King Alfred and Queen Elsewith!" A cry started up in the back, and soon the entire hall was crying it.

Oh, she was Elsewith of Canterbury. Her parents had been friendly with King Ecbert, and I distinctly remembered meeting Elsewith back when I was eight. I had just been getting the hang of living in the castle, still recovering from Constance's death. I had been introduced to Elsewith, a girl who was two years older than me, and while I had done all of the correct courtesies and I had been in the middle of congratulating myself on getting everything right when Elsewith had turned to her mother and loudly asked, "Why is a servant's bastard here?"

I narrowed my eyes at Elsewith now as she sipped gracefully from her wine goblet. A woman who I assumed to be her mother approached the new queen, and after bowing to King Alfred, she pulled her daughter aside and I was able to hear what she whispered into her daughter's ear.

"Give him a son tonight." The lady of Canterbury ordered harshly. "The queen of East Anglia already has given that heathen a son and they haven't been married a year! Do your duty, Elsewith."

All of this sounded like normal talk to me, especially since Elsewith was a queen now. A queen's main job is to provide heirs. I watched Elsewith nod determinedly at her mother and she went back to Alfred's side. Alfred smiled brightly at Elsewith and I sighed heavily; my nephew looked a lot happier, despite the tragedy that had brought him here.

The scene dissolved and came back in a very different setting. I beamed at the sight of a nursery in Thetford. Queen Blaeja sat in a rocking chair, a baby boy bundled in her arms. I got closer and inspected the little prince. He was sleeping and looked to be a few months old. Blaeja must have gotten pregnant either the night of the wedding or sometime immediately afterwards. I smiled at Blaeja, wishing I could congratulate my friend on having a son so soon. It was good news for East Anglia to already have an heir, and good for Sigurd and Blaeja to already have a son.

The doors opened and I had to stop myself from greeting Sigurd as he strode through the room to Blaeja. He looked so different from the first time I met him; his blond hair was cut short and he looked freshly clean shaven. He wore a dark blue doublet, a sword at his hip. He knelt on the ground before Blaeja, staring up at his wife with what looked like wonder.

"Is it true?" Sigurd asked. "Cerdic just told that you were requesting sweets from the coast. You haven't craved that since Eadred." Sigurd looked to his son and gently traced the baby's ear. Blaeja beamed and nodded.

"You'll be having another son next year." Blaeja said, tears filling her eyes and pure joy radiating from her. Sigurd stood up and kissed Blaeja deeply, their son Eadred between them. The scene quickly dissolved and turned to blackness and I felt their joy an ocean away.

The next scene was definitely not something that had really happened. Out of the darkness formed a creature coiled around itself. I frowned slightly and approached it, not sure what it was at first. But then it reared its head and I took a step back from the massive snake before me.

The snake was thick in body, gold and brown scales in long spots running down its body. Even in my dream state, I could see that the snake was strong, coiled around...something. I stepped closer and gasped when I saw the wolf puppy sleeping soundly, using the snake's coils as a headrest. The snake raised its head and, despite the fact that it was a snake, I could tell that the snake was protecting the wolf pup, and it was ready to strike at me if I tried to grab the puppy.

The image dissolved and suddenly I saw myself sitting with Bjomolf sleeping soundly in my arms.

My eyes snapped open and I rubbed furiously at the tears that had sprang into my eyes the moment I realized that I was the snake, and Bjomolf was the wolf puppy. Something Freydis said came into my mind; about how some snakes strangle their prey. I've killed two people, and both by taking away their ability to breathe.

It took me two more seconds to realize that Ivar wasn't in the bed with me.

It didn't take long to find him. Ivar sat at the far edge of the bed, his hair loose and so long it went halfway down his shoulders. He was bent over and I realized with a jolt that he was holding Bjomolf.

"Just wait." Ivar was whispering to Bjomolf. From where I sat, I could see that Bjomolf's eyes were wide open and he was staring up at Ivar's face. "I will show you the mountains and lakes, the land where your mother comes from, everything. You are Bjomolf Ivarsson, and I know you're going to see so much." He lowered his head and put his forehead on Bjomolf's tiny forehead. Bjomolf let out a prolonged cooing sound and I smiled to myself, relaxing back onto the bed.

Alfred and Elsewith. Sigurd and Blaeja. Odin had shown me what was happening in two different kingdoms across the sea, to keep me informed? Did I need to know what was happening specifically with both kingdoms? Already I can see the differences between the two pairs of kings and queens; Alfred and Elsewith were more than likely a political match, while Sigurd and Blaeja genuinely loved each other now. What was the point of showing me the two pairs of monarch?

"Augusta?" Ivar's voice came through the darkness and I looked over to see him watching me. "Are you okay?"

I sat up and moved until I sat behind Ivar, putting my legs on either side of him and resting my chin on his shoulder. "I'm just fine, Ivar." I said, kissing his cheek and breathing him in. Ivar's concern evaporated and he leaned back into me, relief seemingly coming off of him.

Ivar was here, my home was here. After months of being without him, I felt like I could breathe again.


	56. 56: Crowned

As the days went by, the Great Hall was bustling with activity. Ivar got to work taking away anything that reminded him of Lagertha, including the throne. The Great Hall was constantly crowded with the people of Kattegat coming in to see the sons of Ragnar, try to see their future king. I ended up standing in the main hall one day and one of the shopkeepers I had frequented approached me slowly.

"You were always married to a son of Ragnar?" The old man had asked. "You were always carrying a grandson of Ragnar's?"

I had nodded slowly, unable to gauge where this conversation could go. But the old man beamed and had chuckled loudly. "Why didn't you say something earlier? I would have given you all the extra mutton you wanted!" He grabbed my head and kissed the top of my skull, looking amused by the fact that a formerly pregnant customer of his had been a runner up to be queen the whole time.

After that, every neighbor I had come in contact with went around boasting how they had befriended Ivar the Boneless's wife while she hid among them. I heard snippets of tales from people who didn't know me, ranging from how I spied on Lagertha and snuck the information out of Kattegat to how I bravely opened the gates myself, heavily pregnant and in the middle of labor. Each story was wilder than the last, and it became a fun game for the sons of Ragnar to find the most outlandish.

Una stopped by with the twins to give me the colored powders that Freydis had stolen from the Seer. I opened the canisters and stared at the bright colored powders. "Are we sure that these aren't poisonous?" I asked, thinking about the hatred that had burned in Freydis's eyes.

Una pointed to the bright red powder. "I know this one is made of beets and some fruit from the far south. There are a couple of extra spices thrown in there for sure, but the Seer used the red for seeing into the past."

I put the covers on the jars back on and looked up to Una. "I'll worry about these some other time. Are you okay, Una?"

The older woman didn't try to dodge the question. "No. I haven't been okay since Bjarni was killed in battle. It's like there's a part of me missing...Vigdis continues to ask for him. She's so young and doesn't understand why he's gone…"

"I'm sorry, Una." I muttered. I didn't know what else to say to that; my sorry just sounded so flat. But Una sniffled and braced herself, drawing herself up to full height.

"When the snow thaws," She said. "I'll be taking my children back to my farm. I've heard rumors of people sailing to an unknown land beyond the Saxon lands, and of a settlement of Northmen living near Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye. I may change my mind by then, but right now, I plan to take my family to either to new land, or the Saxon lands. There are too many painful memories back home."

"Lands beyond England?" I asked. I had no idea of anything west of my homeland. The world was wide enough east and south of England. I knew about the massive continent to the east, the massive continent to the south. But anything to the west?

Una nodded. "Agnar told me that before we came to Kattegat, the boatmaker Floki came to shore. He and his wife found land, and they wanted people to be there with them. The Usurper refused and the boatmaker smuggled a boat full of people away."

Floki and Helga were alive! They had found land and they had been safe, at least a few months ago. I missed Helga, and I wondered how she was doing now.

The main hall was transformed. Lagertha's throne had wooden rods extending from behind it, resembling the sun's rays to me. Ivar had discarded these immediately, ordering two thrones to sit side by side. Ivar then surprised me by digging into the treasures he had raided from England and he dragged out a large and heavy tapestry. I personally didn't recognize where it had come from, but I immediately recognized that it was Saxon made.

I ran my hands over the thick, woven material and looked at Ivar. "Where did this come from?"

"York." Ivar replied. "You need something to represent your homeland. You are Viking and you are Saxon."

In that moment, I loved Ivar something fierce.

The Great Hall came more together, the tapestry from York was cut into strips and blended with cloth from Kattegat. A handful of thralls were bought for the hall, and they quickly got to work with cooking and cleaning in the hall. They'd be paid with a roof over their head and three meals a day.

Ubbe wanted to build a house for himself and his future family, but the snow was deep and it was too cold to spend all day building. Ubbe instead busied himself with helping the warriors and shieldmaidens who fought find places to live. Thora's refugee house, which had just held two families inside, now had eight families crammed into it. With the cold seeping into my bones, I thought that maybe the heat of other people's bodies could help drive away the cold.

A month passed and it was finally time. The days were short and we waited for the sun to set and darkness to fall. Torches were lit on every corner of the city, making Kattegat glow with orange light. From inside the Great Hall, I could hear the people of Kattegat outside, beating drums and blaring pipe music.

Siggy took Bjomolf from me and swore up and down that she'd keep my one month old safe. I watched her go as Ivar glared after her, still not completely trusting of the midwife.

Ivar's face was completely painted; patterns of white and red and black. My eyes were lined heavily with kohl and from the bridge of my nose to my hairline was painted dark red, a color similar to blood. The moment Ivar and I left the Great Hall, the people of Kattegat roared.

Snow had begun to lightly fall, the snowflakes looking like they glowed the moment they entered the orange light. Between the noise and the flickering lights, it suddenly became very surreal and I froze for a moment. If I looked out to the crowd, I could see faces that I recognized. I knew these people already, and right now they were giving me their support. I jerked myself out of my daze and went after Ivar to where Ubbe stood.

Ubbe's face was also painted black and lined with white. A thrall stood behind him, holding two crowns. Ivar and I stood side by side in front of Ubbe, the noise from the crowd ignored now. Ubbe nodded to the pair of us and reached back to the thrall, taking the larger of the two crowns.

"I, Ubbe son of Ragnar Lothbrok," Ubbe called out, loud enough to be heard over the excited crowd. "Crown Ivar son of Ragnar Lothbrok as king of Kattegat!" With that said, Ivar lowered himself as Ubbe placed the iron crown on his younger brother's head. Ivar straightened and took a few steps back as the crowd in front of the Great Hall went wild. Ubbe reached back again and grabbed the second crown and handed it to Ivar.

Ivar faced me head on and I could see his ice blue eyes gleaming. When he spoke, he was louder than Ubbe and the crowd made an attempt to hush themselves. "I, King Ivar son of Ragnar Lothbrok, crown my wife Runa Ecbertsdottir as queen of Kattegat!"

I dipped my head and the iron crown was rested on my head. The heavy metal was a weight on my head as I straightened back up, but Ivar was staring at me hungrily and the crowd were calling out their support. Ivar took my hand and raised it, facing the crowd as their king. The drums kicked up the tempo and the surrealism was back.

When Ivar and I started heading back inside to escape the cold, people followed. The first time I sat on the throne Ivar had set up, I felt like a weight was resting onto my shoulders. This wasn't like when I had sat on King Ecbert's throne; with knowledge that that throne would never be mine. This was my throne, a literal seat of power with people looking up to me. I looked to my side to see Ivar had already sat himself in his throne and for a flash, I saw the same awe shining in his eyes that I was feeling. But my husband was able to hide it better, putting on the mask of fierceness that the Northmen respected more than anything.

As all these thoughts swirled wildly in my head, King Harald Finehair approached the thrones and nodded deeply. "King Ivar, Queen Runa. I hope we'll be able to broker out a proper allegiance."

"Later, Finehair." Ivar said immediately. "Tonight is for celebration. Enjoy yourself, feast on the food. Tomorrow we talk allegiances."

Finehair looked annoyed to be dismissed, but I watched as he nodded again and walked away. I frowned at his back and turned to Ivar. "Allegiances?" I echoed.

Ivar glanced to me. "He's an ambitious man. His goals are still the same." I nodded, understanding that Finehair still wanted to be king of all Norway.

White Hair approached the thrones, bowing deeply to the pair of us before yanking the chain in his fist. I swallowed when I saw that Heahmund was connected to the end of that chain. I stiffened as Heahmund looked up, glaring hard at Ivar with nothing short of hatred.

"Ivar the Boneless," White Hair began. "I offer this Saxon priest as a personal family slave. He fought for us against Lagertha the Usurper, so he's strong and well enough for manual labor. This Christian is my gift to you and your wife." White Hair gave me a deep nod of respect, but I could barely respond. Heahmund spat suddenly.

"I am owed my freedom!" Heahmund snarled like a wild animal. "I was promised freedom if I fought-" White Hair cut him off by clocking him on the side of the head and knocking Heahmund to the ground.

Heahmund had been screaming in Viking, so the hall understood him. But they all jeered and mocked the priest as he fell to the ground. I winced slightly and turned to look at Ivar, who had been watching me this whole time. He smirked at the heat of my glare. "We could always have him do manual labor and keep him away from us." Ivar suggested.

I narrowed my eyes at Ivar and my husband read my mind. Ivar sighed and hurriedly accepted White Hair's gift, making the large warrior drag Heahmund out of the hall. I watched people spit on Heahmund as he passed.

"If you wish him dead," Ivar said slowly. "You may do so. He's a common slave now."

For a while after this, others approached and offered their services, slaves, treasures from raids. Trygve and Berglijot offered themselves as warriors sworn to guard the royal family, including Ivar's brothers and any children they or we had. More slaves were given, some from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, a handful from more familiar places like England and Frankia. I watched the Saxon and Frankish slaves crowd around each other, and wondered what they thought of me. Could they tell I was Saxon?

Once everyone had offered whatever they did, people settled into the long tables around the hall and thralls brought out the first actual feast since Kattegat had been won. There was mutton soaking in onion ale broth, turnips drowning in buttered oil, baked buns stuffed with pine nuts and apple, and fresh and flaky applecakes. The food was hot and filling and I tried my hardest to eat a little bit of everything.

Hvitserk appeared at my shoulder at some point during the feast and he rested his chin on top of my head. "Didn't I tell you that you'd be eating better food? Back in Thetford?"

I swallowed the mouthful of onion ale broth I had and smiled at Hvitserk. "Yes, you did. And you were completely right." Hvitserk let out his bark like laugh and took the seat beside me, finally joining us at the table.

Ubbe frowned around Ivar and me at his younger brother. "Where have you been? I didn't see you during the crowning."

Hvitserk shrugged and swiped a stuffed bun. "I wanted to watch from a distance. See how everyone likes the new king and queen. They love you both, by the way."

Hvitserk had said all of this through a mouthful of stuffed bun, flecks of pine nuts falling from his mouth. His green eyes had been cast downward and he looked like he was looking for the next thing to eat. But I had known Hvitserk for nearly two years now, and I had always been able to tell when he was lying.

Like how his explanation was a blatant lie right now.

Hvitserk shot a glance at me; he knew that I knew. He swallowed his food and I could read his face and tell that he wanted me to just let the lie go and not call him out. So I shrugged at Hvitserk and went back to the mutton soaking in onion ale broth.

The feast continued for several hours, seeing as the nights lasted a lot longer in the winter. I drew away from the crowd only once to breastfeed Bjomolf, and when I got back to the feast, some of the women of Kattegat questioned loudly why I hid away to feed my son.

"Feeding your children is a natural thing, my queen!" One older woman from the city exclaimed. "Every person in this hall has seen a breast before; no need to hide feeding your son." She cooed over Bjomolf for a while as other women said a variation of the same thing.

Bjomolf was somehow able to sleep soundly in my arms while the feast continued. Ivar sat himself right beside me; half of his face paint had been chipped off and he was completely drunk, but he still stared at his young son with a calmness that I had never really seen on him before.

Ubbe and Hvitserk got drunk alongside Ivar, the three brothers competing to see which one of them could drain a tankard of mead the fastest. When Ubbe won, he screamed in delight and Ivar spat out the mouthful he hadn't swallowed yet. I watched the three of them jostle each other and have genuine fun and in that moment I loved the three of them.

Had I ever cared about my birth family the way I cared for these men? I did, but in a different way. They were allowed to be loud and rambunctious here; in Winchester they'd have to be more refined. I enjoyed myself with watching the Northmen interact with each other and celebrate the new monarchy.

The feast didn't end until close to dawn the next morning. No one wanted to leave the Great Hall because of the heat and food and comfort of being surrounded by plenty of people. The moment people started to leave the hall, I melted away and placed Bjomolf into his cradle so that my son could sleep for as long as he needed.

I stepped into the more private quarters of the Great Hall, the stragglers from the feast were still sprawled all around the main hall. The hearth was half dead, only bright orange embers remaining. I began to rebuild the fire, bringing it back to life.

A sharp cough sounded from the corner and made me jump with fright. I turned to see a mass huddled in the corner, chained to a heavy piece of wooden furniture. I stared at Heahmund; he looked like hell.

As the light grew, I was able to see more details of Heahmund's treatment. One of his eyes were swollen shut, bruises splotches all over his head. When I looked to his hands, I saw that they were dirty and bloody, his fingernails cracked.

Heahmund looked up at me slowly, as if moving his head caused him pain. "Oh," His voice cracked with effort. "How times have changed, right, Augusta of Wessex? Because that's who you are: not some heathen queen among savages. You have strayed far from the Lord's light. But if you help me, we can make it back home and I can help you repent."

"Help me repent?" I echoed. "You mean beat me? Shave my head? Starve me until I can count my own ribs? How is any of that repenting?"

"In order to truly feel the Lord's love, you must first feel his wrath."

I snorted. "' _Do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on to test you. But rejoice insamuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed._ '" I paused and Heahmund blinked rapidly at me with his one good eye. "Peter, four twelve through thirteen. I spent my whole life memorizing dozens of versions of the Bible; if I was going to believe in your God I think I would have been converted a long time ago."

Heahmund straightened, grimacing slightly. "The fact that you remember that tells me that there is still a devout woman inside of you. There is still hope for you, Augusta of Wessex."

I shook my head and sighed heavily. "Tell me, Heahmund," I said softly. "I spend eighteen years of my life praying to a god that never answered me, for what? Why would your God, who's supposed to be benevolent and caring and all powerful, let a child suffer for what her parents did? Is it really so hard to believe that after eighteen years of silence, I was simply reaching out to the wrong god?"

I continued. "I don't know how many times I can assure you, that I didn't want to be special. I didn't want to have visions or voices in my head telling me things that I don't know when they'll happen, only to be prepared for them. Before Ivar, all I wanted was my father to love me, to be married to a kind husband, and for God to answer my prayers. And I was failed on each of those wants." I grit my teeth thinking of how King Ecbert ignored me, how Kenton patronized me, and how the heavens remained closed.

Heahmund watched me carefully. "I cannot speak for God for why He never answered you. He works in mysterious ways, but I'm sure He never wanted you to seek solace with heathens."

"Then he should have said something before I had the chance to seek solace." I said dryly. "I am one of those heathens now, Heahmund. I have spoken to Odin and Freyja, gods who have made me weep with relief that they were real, and they seemed to care. I know that I'm not high on their lists of cares, but at least I'm on those lists."

Heahmund blinked slowly, looking like he was finally taking in what I was saying. I watched him in silence, wondering if we'd ever be able to mend the bridge between us. But the memory of being chained in that tent, despite happening so long ago, was still fresh in my mind and I stiffened, knowing that I'd never be able to forgive Heahmund for that.

From the other room, I heard Bjomolf cry out. He was hungry again. I straightened up from Heahmund and left him sitting there without saying goodbye.


	57. 57: The Horizon

The first rays of warmth of spring woke me up. I blinked for a moment before sitting up in bed, my hair long enough to reach my elbows now. I sat in bed for a moment, trying to hold onto the last moments of that dream. What had I even been…?

Ivar was sprawled on his belly beside me, snoring into his pillow. His hair was spilling onto his shoulders, the ends becoming blonder. I looked away from Ivar and to where Bjomolf was sleeping soundly, finally sleeping through the night.

It had been five months since I birthed my son, and four months since Ivar and I had been crowned king and queen. I crept out of my bed and wrapped myself in a shawl. After quickly checking on Bjomolf's breathing, I left the room with the decision that Ivar will wake when Bjomolf did.

The hearth in the common area was already roaring with the morning fire, and a thrall was roasting what looked like rabbits over the flames. The thrall looked at me with wide eyes and bent her head low. "Good morning, queen."

This particular thrall had been sold into slavery from Frankia. I knew her name was Cateline, but it made it better not to refer to them by their names. The thralls we had gotten from our coronation were good at cleaning and cooking, but I kept them far away from Bjomolf, and kept them at an arm's length with myself.

Every now and then nightmares of Freydis would enter my dreams, and I'd remember why not trusting the new thralls wasn't a good idea.

Soon after acquiring some of the new thralls, a group of them had tried to escape. Two of the ones from Sweden and a single Saxon one had been hunted down and dragged back by Hvitserk. They had planned on buying a boat somewhere and making it to East Anglia. To make an example of them, Ivar had them all burned alive. Since then, we had been keeping an extra close eye on every other thrall that had access to the Great Hall.

"Tea?" Cateline the Frankish thrall asked, her accent making her Viking words hard to understand.

"Yes please." I replied in Frankish. Cateline shakily handed me the mug of mint tea and went back to preparing the rabbits. I sipped at the tea, relishing the warmth that was already seeping into the hall.

The winter had been hard, and I had spent most of it sick. My nose had been rubbed raw from the constant sniffles, but I had been thankfully spared from fever and infection from my tear. Throughout my sickness, Ivar had been nothing but supportive and had begun trading for tea, so that I could have something of home that would make me feel better.

Meanwhile, Kattegat was so overcrowded that refugee houses were taking care of thirty people each. Some had died from sickness and cold and their bodies had been burned outside the city. I thanked Odin for the warmer weather, because now Finehair and his men could leave and go home, and all the other earls could go home, and Kattegat could breathe a bit easier without so many cramming inside the walls. I wanted those who lived here to go back to their regular lives.

How fast I had gone from thinking of them as Kattegat citizens to my own people. I knew these people; living among them had helped. I knew the butcher's family who always made sure we had the best slices of mutton. I knew the baker who made spiced buns fresh for Bjomolf to chew on. Kattegat was my home, and I wanted the people here to thrive again.

Cateline took the finished rabbits out of the fire and began preparing them to eat. I sipped my tea and watched her through narrowed eyes. I remembered a part of my dream from last night; it had been about Freydis.

Freydis had looked the way she had when I had killed her. Her face was blue, her eyes bulged, and her neck had been constricted down from the iron grip I had. When she spoke, her voice rasped like every syllable caused her spirit pain.

"Saxon," Freydis rasped. Her breath hit me in the face like a wave of hot air. In my dream, I had straightened and refused to back down until the corpse withered back and collapsed into dust. But I knew that if I saw her right now, I'd be more inclined to cower in fear.

The worst part was, I couldn't tell if these were dreams from Odin or just plain nightmares.

I hadn't heard from anything god related since getting crowned queen of Kattegat. The last thing I remembered hearing or seeing from a god was the shadow that hovered over Freydis as she approached my son. Before that...I couldn't even remember anymore.

Had the gods left me for some reason? Was I to pray to nothing like before? Standing in the presence of gods was like standing in bright sunlight; to go without them was like a thick cloud covering the light and covering you in shadows. All that was left now was a feeling of unease, like something was constantly watching me.

The floorboards creaked and I looked up from the fire to see Hvitserk emerging from his room towards the back of the hall. My friend was only wearing dark breeches, and his hair was unbraided and hanging loose around his shoulders. Hvitserk grunted at me and took the spot next to me after swiping one of the rabbits from Cateline.

"Didn't know it was warm enough to sleep shirtless." I commented.

Hvitserk ripped a bite of rabbit from the bone and looked down to himself as grease dripped down his chin. "I can't be expected to hide myself forever, Runa. Now that it's warm, I think I should show the world what I'm working with."

I snorted in amusement at that. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson, we've lived in the same building for five months and I have not seen a single woman come out from your bedroom the entire time. Surely winter would be the perfect time to get women to warm your bed for you?"

Hvitserk swallowed a mouthful of rabbit and winked at me. "Good to know you've been keeping an eye on my bedroom."

Cateline started to approach me, to hand me a plate of sliced rabbit. But the sudden baby cry from the bedroom made me hurry to put my tea down and fetch Bjomolf, ignoring Cateline's plate of food. I heard Hvitserk distinctly sigh behind my back but I ignored him.

"Good morning!" I beamed at the sight of Bjomolf sitting up on his own in his crib. Bjomolf's wide smile dominated most of his face and caused his mismatched eyes to squint. He let out a high pitched baby laugh and I felt myself smile wider at the sound. I walked to his crib and heaved him out, catching a whiff of his soiled nightclothes as I did so. "Let's get you out of that, shall we?"

I had only half turned to take care of Bjomolf when I spotted Ivar, fully awake now and watching me with eyes half closed. "Do not stop talking to him on my account. Please continue."

I looked back to Bjomolf. "Your father wants to watch me clean your ass, so let's do that." Ivar snickered loudly but didn't make any further comment and remained silent until I finished cleaning Bjomolf. Only then did he start moving to put his braces on his legs. I caught sight of his bare legs, thin and bone like in the gray morning light.

Hvitserk was still sitting beside the hearth when I came back out with Bjomolf. Cateline was still standing there too, the plate of sliced rabbit forgotten on the bench. I had just sat down when she rushed forward.

"Let me feed prince, queen!" Cateline started in broken Viking. I moved Bjomolf away from her and glared hard at the thrall.

"You do not touch my son, thrall." I said coldly in Frankish to make sure she understood. She flinched and backed away, her head ducked.

"That seems a little harsh, Runa." Hvitserk said absentmindedly. I narrowed my eyes at him and he shrugged, not pushing the subject farther. I put my attention back on Bjomolf and opened the front of my dress, revealing my breast so that he could nurse. I had lost the hesitation of nursing in public only around people I trusted. And besides, Hvitserk was too busy putting all of his attention on the rabbit in his hands.

Ivar entered the room with thumping footsteps, his legs being weighed down by the iron braces. If Cateline the thrall was scared of me, she was petrified by Ivar. The thrall watched Ivar with wide and terrified eyes as he limped over and plopped down beside me, running his finger down Bjomolf's head and tracing his dark hair.

Cateline tried to give Ivar a fresh plate of sliced rabbit, her hand shaking. Ivar took it without noticing and began eating, talking to Hvitserk through a mouthful. "We're expecting sailing today, yes?"

Hvitserk nodded, wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand. "Finehair and all of his people should be leaving today. Earl Frode will be taking his men tomorrow. And Earl Asmund says it's easier for his people to walk home rather than sail, so they're going to probably leave in a couple of days."

"The faster everyone leaves, the happier I'll be." Ivar said darkly. He glanced around the hall, his eyes narrowed. "Where is Ubbe?"

"Probably working on the house." I said. "He's been working on it every morning for the last five days."

"Wants it to be perfect for when Margrethe and their baby." Hvitserk said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Ivar did the same and I glanced between them.

"I think it's sweet that he's trying to build a home for his family." I defended Ubbe's honor since he wasn't here. I cast Ivar glance. "Would you build me a house?"

Ivar blinked and smiled wolfishly. "Would that I could, Augusta. But my legs keep me from doing a lot. And one of those things is building suitable houses." He shrugged. "That or it would take me a very, very long time."

I snorted and shook my head, knowing that if I really wanted a house, Ivar would do it. I took the plate of sliced rabbit and started picking at it, the meat tender and chewy. When Bjomolf was finished nursing, I handed him a tiny piece of rabbit to try.

By the time the sun was risen, the different groups were all ready to leave. Finehair would be taking his warriors back home to Vestfold and the moment I walked down to the docks with Ivar and Hvitserk, I could see that the majority of people there were Finehair's people.

The ships were almost done being loaded, telling me that they must've started packing around dawn. Finehair was weaving among his people, smiling and looking downright cheerful to be leaving. He quickly spotted myself standing with Ivar and Hvitserk and he hurried over.

"King Ivar!" Finehair exclaimed, bringing Ivar into a tight embrace. Ivar thumped his back with as much enthusiasm and the two men pressed their foreheads together. Hvitserk threw a look at me and I smirked.

"Where is Ubbe?" Finehair asked upon releasing Ivar.

"Busy creating a home for his wife." Ivar explained as vaguely as he could.

Finehair snorted. "I'll be sure to send that wife of his straight here when I get home. Then I'll get to work making my own heir." He let out heavy grunts and I felt a stab of pity for Queen Astrid.

Finehair said goodbye to Hvitserk, saying that Hvitserk should join him on a raiding mission sometime soon. And then the older king turned to me and he looked me up and down for a long moment.

"Farewell, Saxon Queen." Finehair said.

"Farewell, King Finehair." I replied. He chuckled darkly and hugged me stiffly, unresolved tension still hanging in the air as he let go and hauled himself onto his ship. The sooner he was away from Kattegat, the better.

Finehair's fleet of ships were over the horizon by the time the sun was at its highest point. We said goodbye again as Earl Frode's warriors sailed away to their home, and already Kattegat was becoming less crowded as the people who fought were finally going home after being gone for nearly three years.

It really wasn't that long ago I had been eighteen and stuck in life. Ivar and Ragnar Lothbrok's appearance in Winchester was what convinced King Ecbert to marry me off. Now I was half a world away, a queen and mother, and most of the people I had grown up with were dead. I bit the inside of my mouth hard at this thought.

"Runa!" I jerked myself out of my thoughts as Thora approached me, her eyes bright and her dirty blond hair blown from the wind. I took a few steps away from Ivar and Hvitserk as Thora skidded to a halt in front of me, a wide smile on her face. "I have exciting news!"

"Calm down and tell me!" I said, grabbing onto Thora's shoulders to keep her from bouncing with excitement.

Thora stopped bouncing but the smile didn't leave one bit. "I've just come from Siggy's and she's confirmed it! I'm pregnant!"

I blinked, my questions about who the father was immediately squashed by the happiness for my friend. I pulled Thora into my arms and hugged her tightly. Thora giggled with excitement into my neck.

"I'm so happy for you, Thora!" I said, honestly meaning it. The creeping thought of wondering who the father was came back into my mind but I forced it down again, now was not the time to ask that. "Did Siggy say everything was okay?"

Thora nodded, "Siggy said I'm perfectly healthy. Oh, Runa, I cannot wait to meet them." She looked down to her flat belly as if picturing it round already.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Ivar and Hvitserk. Ivar had gotten to know Thora over the course of the winter, and he seemed to be happy for Thora if not a little detached. They weren't close and he only knew her as my friend who helped me when he was gone.

Hvitserk on the other hand, had completely shut his face down of all emotion. He was watching Thora with a blank look, his jaw tight. Thora didn't notice. I knew Hvitserk well enough by now to know that this pregnancy wasn't good news for him. Hvitserk glanced quickly at me and I raised an eyebrow at him, promising him that we'd discuss this later. Hvitserk narrowed his eyes right back and turned away, walking farther into Kattegat and away from the docks. I watched him go for a moment before turning back to Thora, determined to be happy for her despite Hvitserk's odd reaction.

I started walking back up the road to the Great Hall, with Ivar on one side and Thora on the other. The warmth that was coming with spring was seeping into the bones of the city, and it felt like something was on the horizon.


	58. 58: Lightning

Three weeks after Finehair left, a new ship from Vestfold entered the bay. Margrethe stepped off the ship and into Ubbe's arms, her bright blond hair shining in the spring sun. The handmaid who got off the ship next held a baby who looked to be five months old, just like Bjomolf. I held onto my own son and stood with Ivar at the head of the dock, watching Ubbe reunite with his wife and hold his child for the first time.

"He looks to be around your age." Ivar said to Bjomolf, stroking his son's dark hair as he said it. I nodded in agreement at Ivar's words. Ivar glanced to me. "It is good that Ubbe has no interest in the throne. Otherwise there'd be a fight over who would get it after their father."

I narrowed my eyes and leaned close to Ivar so that only he could hear. "If we were going strictly by laws of succession, there wouldn't even be a question. Ubbe would get the throne after Ragnar died, and that baby would be the heir."

"Praise the gods we aren't back there then." Ivar replied. His blue eyes scanned over my face and he smiled softly. "I mean that, Augusta." He gently pressed his forehead against mine for a brief moment before straightening back up to greet those who had been staying at Vestfold.

Margrethe was frowning as Ubbe spoke in her ear. But right as her mouth opened to say something, Ubbe took the baby and began walking towards us. Margrethe was left to follow with the other passengers behind her.

"I have a son." Ubbe said simply, beaming like the sun as he stopped in front of me and Ivar. "Look." He held out the baby slightly and I got a good look at the five month old.

Ubbe and Margrethe's son had the round face of babyhood, but his wide blue eyes were the same shade of Ubbe's, and I knew that he'd end up with Ragnar Lothbrok's icy blue eyes. The baby had a fine layer of bright blond hair covering his head, a shade very similar to Margrethe's. The baby boy stared at Bjomolf with wide blue eyes, taking in the sight of another baby.

"He's a handsome little boy," I said, reaching out and letting the new baby grab ahold of my fingers. "What's his name?"

"Ragnvald Ubbesson," Ubbe announced proudly. "He will be the first of many sons." He turned to where Margrethe was hovering behind him and he wrapped a free arm around her. Ubbe looked to Ivar and smiled. "The line of Ragnar Lothbrok will continue on, brother."

Ivar narrowed his eyes but smiled anyway. I raised an eyebrow but did the same and said nothing. Bjomolf was the first of Ragnar's grandchildren to be born in Kattegat: did he not count? I bit back this thought; I knew this thought was irrational. Ubbe himself had held my son and played with him and tried to encourage Bjomolf into crawling already. The comment still stung, no matter how small the comment.

Margrethe was peering curiously at Bjomolf sitting on my hip. "I see you had your own." She said neutrally.

"He is Bjomolf Ivarsson," Ivar boasted to her, straightening and sticking his chest out. "The prince of Kattegat and heir to my throne."

Margrethe shot Ubbe a quick glance but hummed and nodded, choosing not to fully respond to that. "I suppose then we should be calling you King Ivar and Queen Runa, yes?"

"Yes." Ivar said firmly, his narrowed gaze locked on Margrethe, seemingly daring her to ask another question. Margrethe shrank back, no longer making eye contact. There was a moment of tension as Ivar and Margrethe's history momentarily surfaced, Ubbe narrowing his eyes at his younger brother.

Deciding to diffuse the tension, I made a show of looking around. "Ivar, do you know where Hvitserk is?"

Ivar responded immediately to me by turning towards me, looking over my head to scan the docks for Hvitserk. Ubbe flashed me a thankful smile, bouncing baby Ragnvald slightly. When Ivar couldn't find his older brother, I stepped forward to Ubbe and Margrethe.

"Let's head up to the Great Hall." I suggested. I led the way towards home, holding Bjomolf so that he could watch people over my shoulder. Ivar and Ubbe walked together, Ubbe holding tightly onto Ragnvald. Margrethe brought up the rear, lagging slightly behind Ubbe and Ivar.

The thralls in the Great Hall had been hard at work making a feast for those returning to Kattegat. I walked into the family area and looked around quickly; Hvitserk wasn't here either. Where was he? You would think he wouldn't want to miss his brother's wife returning, given that he and Margrethe were so close to begin with. A thrall slowly approached me to ask to take Bjomolf away, and this one didn't look offended or scared when I dismissed her immediately.

"Now I've been working on our house," Ubbe was telling Margrethe. "Until it's finished, we'll be staying here. Keep the family close." Margrethe looked like she'd rather not, but she smiled anyway and kissed Ubbe on his cheek. Ragnvald let out a high pitched squeal that made Bjomolf turn around in a hurry, looking for the other baby.

Ubbe walked up to me and we held the babies so that they faced each other. "Look there," I said. "You and Ragnvald are going to be good friends as you grow up."

"They'll be as close as brothers," Ubbe corrected me. "Bjomolf and Ragnvald: they'll raise all kinds of trouble."

The image of two young wild boys, one with pale blond hair and the other with dark brown hair, running along the shore beside Kattegat came to mind and it made me smile. As the two five month olds stared and cooed at each other, the idea of having a real and permanent life in Kattegat became more solidified.

The doors opened and Hvitserk froze in the doorway, his green eyes taking in the reunion happening in front of him. Ivar sat down beside the hearth with a grunt and narrowed his eyes at Hvitserk. "Well, it is nice of you to finally join us, Hvitserk. Where have you been?"

"Nowhere." Hvitserk immediately lied. I raised an eyebrow at him and Hvitserk glanced furiously at me before shaking his head once, a silent shut up. Hvitserk hurried into the room and quickly pulled Margrethe into a brief hug before going over to Ubbe to meet Ragnvald.

I felt someone nudge my elbow and turned to see Ivar stretching out to get my attention. I stepped away from Hvitserk meeting with the newest addition to the family and took the seat right next to Ivar.

"Is he jumpy to you?" Ivar asked in my ear, watching Hvitserk with eyes like a hawk.

Hvitserk was clearly getting more obvious if Ivar was beginning to notice. I glanced at him, as if trying to see what Ivar was talking about, before turning back to him and blinking in what I hoped looked like confusion. "What do you mean, Ivar?"

Ivar looked stumped for a moment before he smirked slightly at me. "You'd make a terrible spy, Augusta."

"I was good enough to not raise Lagertha's suspicion." I reminded him. I leaned forward and muttered into his ear, "Leave your brother be. Everyone's allowed to have their secrets." Even as I said this, I knew I'd go interrogate Hvitserk about what he's been doing the moment it was safe. Ivar looked like he knew I'd figure it out eventually too, because he smiled at me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Well, be sure to fill me in whenever you discover his secret." Ivar replied.

"That entirely depends on what it is." I said evenly. Ivar snorted and reached out, clearly wanting Bjomolf. I handed our son over and Ivar leaned down to mutter something into Bjomolf ear. I shook my head, amused at the sight of Ivar trying to share secrets with our five month old.

I turned back to everyone else. Hvitserk was holding Ragnvald now, and Margrethe was hovering protectively. The thralls were creeping around, passing out dark beer and black bread. The Frankish one-Cateline-crept up to me with a nervous expression on her face.

"Tea, queen?" Cateline asked, the cup already in her hand in case I wanted it. I nodded and she handed the cup of tea to me. She scurried away immediately afterwards and I watched her go with narrowed eyes.

I didn't think I should be happy or pleased that Cateline was actively fearful of me. No one ever had before. Even when I was just King Ecbert's daughter, or Kenton's wife, none of the servants had been openly fearful. Ivar was used to people being afraid of him; it was apart of his whole position. But these particular thralls, even though they edged around Ivar, they were more on edge whenever I was around. What did that say about who I've become?

I looked back to where Bjomolf sat on Ivar's lap. I knew why I had become so aggressive towards the thralls. I still had nightmares about Freydis taking Bjomolf from his crib and disappearing. The chances of these thralls trying to kidnap Bjomolf felt slim to none, but still…

Hvitserk had returned Ragnvald to his mother and I took the opportunity to grab onto his arm, excusing him from the others. Hvitserk allowed me to pull him away, and he walked willingly over to the far corner of the room.

"I take it as you want to talk, Runa?" Hvitserk asked the moment we stopped. I dropped my hand from his arm and wheeled around to face him.

"Why are you acting weird?" I asked.

"No need to build up to it, right?" Hvitserk huffed in amusement. "It's been a weird time, Runa."

"Ever since you found out about Thora being pregnant." I pointed out. "You were your normal self before then. Did you and Thora ever…?"

"Thora and I never slept together, Runa." Hvitserk insisted. I blinked; if he was lying, I couldn't tell.

"So it's not your baby?"

Hvitserk straightened and narrowed his eyes at me. "No. Thora and I never had sex, so there's no way that baby's mine. I already have a child in East Anglia, in case you forgot."

"I didn't forget." I said, raising my hands up slightly in surrender. "You just looked upset when she announced her pregnancy."

Hvitserk looked down and kicked at a spot on the ground with his toe. "I know who the father is." He grumbled.

"Really? Who?"

Hvitserk kicked even harder at the ground. "I'm not saying. I promised not to tell." He snorted in frustration. "Doesn't make me feel any less like dog shit."

"How do you know who the father is?" I asked.

"I walked in on them." Hvitserk explained. "Thora tried to hide herself and he...they both didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't supposed to be pregnant."

A stab of guilt hit me that I hadn't realized any of this had been happening. "When was this?" I asked, trying to figure out how far along Thora was.

Hvitserk shrugged. "Maybe a couple of months ago? I don't know who many times they slept together."

"Thora wouldn't just sleep with anyone." I muttered to myself. Hvitserk shrugged.

"Don't ask me about who the father is, Runa." Hvitserk said. "I want to keep this secret. If they ever want to come forward with their kid, that's on them."

"Okay, Hvitserk." I said, shaking my head. "I am sorry you're dealing with this."

He frowned but and shrugged again. "Maybe when the baby is here, he'll figure himself out." I couldn't help but notice how bitter he sounded. But Hvitserk was done talking, because he shook his head and walked away, sitting down beside Ivar and Bjomolf. I watched him for a moment, feeling even more confused than when I was before this conversation.

As I glanced between Ivar and Hvitserk sitting together and Margrethe whispering something into Ubbe's ear, a strange feeling prickled up my spine. Something was wrong at the edge of my vision, something moving. The air itself seemed to be moving jaggedly, dangerously, like lightning between the two parties.

"Something's coming." I whispered to myself, not entirely sure where the words came from. I glanced between the two groups, taking notice of Margrethe holding tightly onto Ragnvald and clinging to Ubbe's arm, to how Hvitserk and Ivar seemed to be a united front with Bjomolf sitting happily on his uncle's lap. The more I observed the groups, the darker both groups became.

"Something's coming," I repeated, but this time my voice had changed, and I recognized the Seer's voice speaking along with me.

I blinked, and the lighting of the room went back to normal, the lightning running between the groups disappearing with a flash. Ubbe walked to the hearth and sat down with his brothers, looking very happy to see how Ragnvald and Bjomolf react to each other. All was well, as if the vision had never happened.

It was time to look through the Seer's supplies again.


	59. 59: The New Seer

The colored powders were in Una's house. The older woman had gotten busy working in the farming fields outside of Kattegat, in order to keep the refugee house and keep her children fed. Magnus had been living with the family, and he had begun working the farming fields with Una and Alaric.

"I just want to learn how to work." Magnus told me when I asked about it. "Mother never thought it important. But how can you understand what the people go through, if you never make an effort?"

I didn't point out that Magnus was a prince of Mercia, so the way the Northmen do things could be very different from how Mercians do things. There were different vegetables and fruit used, but I didn't say any of this. Magnus had grown close with Una's eldest children, Kari and Alaric, and it was good that he had people close to him. He shouldn't have to rely on only me and the Ragnarssons.

The day I went to see Una's refugee house was a couple of days after Margrethe arrived. Thora and I walked down to the house together, arm in arm and talking about Kattegat. "I don't know about you," Thora was saying. "But I'm excited about the midsummer festivities this year. We lived too far out last year to come to Kattegat and participate. Have you ever celebrated midsummer?"

I thought about it. "I don't think so. We celebrated Easter in the springtime."

"What is Easter?" Thora asked, looking genuinely curious. The explanation of Easter lasted us until we got to Una's house, and we knocked on the door to see if anyone else was home.

The refugee house wasn't empty when we entered. Kari sat beside the hearth, baby Vigdis sitting on her lap. Ascrida was weaving, her red hair pulled into one thick braid going down her back. The twins were huddled together and playing with dolls made out of straw. When Thora closed the door behind us, every face looked up and smiled as we came farther into the house.

"Pleasure to see you, Queen Runa." Kari said, nodding her head in greeting. Vigdis wiggled her way out of Kari's arms and hobbled over, still unsure on her legs but able to walk heavily around the house.

"Hi!" Vigdis shouted, stopping short just in front of me and Thora. I squatted down to get on Vigdis's level as Thora walked around me to catch up with Ascrida and Kari. Vigdis started talking, her high pitched voice thick with young age as she struggled to tell me about her day.

I scooped up Vigdis and joined the others by the hearth. "You all are doing fine, right?" I asked, Vigdis giggling all the way. "Enough food?"

"We've been doing just fine, Runa." Ascrida promised. She was already feeling Thora's flat tummy and trying to feel the baby moving. "Gorm, the butcher, has been bringing us free racks of mutton." I noticed that Ascrida blushed at this, smiling bashfully. I pretended not to see and sat Vigdis down, and the three year old girl buried her face into my skirt.

I tickled the toddler's sides and smiled. "I can only hope that Bjomolf is this playful when he's your age." I said. Vigdis let out a high pitched giggle and ran away, clutching her sides to protect herself from my tickling.

Kari watched her younger sister go before turning to me. "Mother is planning on leaving. She's been talking to some others who work in the fields. I think they're planning on going to East Anglia."

"I assume Una would want to take all of you with her." I replied, meaning her children. "East Anglia wouldn't be so bad, I would think. If you all settle in Thetford where Sigurd is king, I'm sure there are other Northmen settling there as well."

Kari sighed heavily. "I don't want to leave though. We've started to make a life here. Mother just wants to leave because she doesn't want to be here without-" She cut herself off and looked at the fire in the hearth. I knew where she was getting at anyway; Una didn't want a life in Kattegat without Bjarni.

If Ivar had died before making it back here, would I want to stay, knowing what plans he had here? I didn't know the answer, and I didn't want to know. The thought of Ivar dying and leaving me and Bjomolf behind was too sad to think about. I couldn't imagine what Una has to go through everyday ever since Bjarni died.

"What about Magnus?" I asked, knowing he and Kari were close. "He's supposed to go back anyway. If you and your family go to East Anglia, Magnus would sail back with you."

The thought entered my head that Magnus was also supposed to come home with a Northern princess as a bride. But since Siggy was the closest thing to that, it didn't seem like Magnus would be marrying a princess of any kind. Siggy was the closest thing Kattegat had to a midwife; she was needed here.

Since the battle, Siggy had been busier than ever. It seemed that every other week, there was a new pregnant woman in Kattegat. From shieldmaidens to field workers to the thralls working around the city, women were getting pregnant quickly now that we were in a time of peace. Siggy's main worry was that more than one woman would give birth at the same time and that she'd have to choose one to take care of. Thora was just the latest woman to announce a pregnancy.

I looked over to Thora, who was sitting beside Ascrida and talking excitedly about the baby. Whoever got her pregnant, she was clearly more excited about the baby than the father.

Who was the father? Hvitserk was clearly upset by whoever it was, and he still wasn't eager to say anything. Thora seemed very good at hiding her emotions if she was upset by the father not letting himself known. The fact that Hvitserk was upset about it told me that it was someone we both knew. But who?

Finehair just left. Certainly had enough time to impregnate Thora and leave. Thora told us the day Harald left; and hadn't been upset when she told us. I thought back to any time Harald and Thora interacted over the five months he was stranded here in Kattegat. But they hadn't been near each other in public and when they had been, it hadn't like anything more than two strangers being a part of a mutual group. I doubted it was Harald.

Berglijot and Trygve weren't around, they were off hunting Bjorn and Bjorn's supporters. The idea of Bjorn coming back was always on Ivar's mind, so there was always at least one group out hunting where the trail went cold five months ago. I think Ivar was the next one to lead the next group, and that'll mean he'll be gone for a couple of weeks before coming back and the next group going out to try.

I couldn't help but wonder when it'd be a good idea to cut our losses and stop sending people out looking. It had been five months and the trail had gone cold a long time ago. Bjorn and his family were miles and miles away; as for his supporters, I had no clue. I wished they were here though, it had been a long time since I had spent time with them.

Ascrida showed us where the Seer's supplies were stored and we promised to visit again soon before heading back to the Great Hall. Thora took one side of the basket and I took the other, and we began the slow trek back to the center of Kattegat.

"If only there was more left at the Seer's actual house." I said, thinking out loud.

"You think he really had more?" Thora asked.

"Probably. Maybe he had some instructions on how to ask the gods what's happening." I chuckled darkly to myself and Thora frowned slightly.

"Did you sense something, Runa?" She asked. "Like, is something bad going to happen?"

"I don't know yet," I said truthfully. "I don't know what I saw, but I want to be prepared for it, whatever it is." I desperately wished that the Seer had told me a specific way to figure out the future. Was there a kind of method to it? Or did I just have to see bits and piece it all together? I wish there was someone I could ask, or someone to talk to who would understand.

Did the Seer ever feel this lonely? Or did he deal with the fact that when most people talked to him, they wanted something from him? These thoughts bounced around in my head as Thora and I made it back home and we set the basket beside the hearth.

"I'll go see how Bjomolf is doing," Thora announced, heading back there before I could respond. I dug the colored powders and brought them to the hearth as well. Thora came back soon after with the report that Bjomolf was soundly sleeping with the Frankish thrall watching over him. I grunted at that with a glare at the doorway before turning back to the supplies.

"Last time I used these," I started, pulling the yellow powder to me. "This showed me the sons of Ragnar fighting against Lagertha's forces."

"Maybe it can show you where Bjorn and his followers are hiding." Thora suggested.

"Maybe," I clutched a fistful of yellow powder in my fist and flung it into the hearth fire. The flames rose high and a blast of sticky heat whooshed into my face and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head.

The ground fell away and I could see the mountains. A tiny village had a hearth in the center of it, and I recognized Torvi sitting beside the fire, little Refil on her lap. Nearby, Erik was playing with another little boy that looked to be around his own age. When I thought of them, I saw Bjorn and Guthrum walking a mountain trail with five other men. I tried to figure out where they were, and the scene zoomed away and I saw that wherever they were, there were miles away and had a full mountain range between us.

My thoughts drifted to the familiar faces I know that got away, like Gunnhild and Halfdan. A yellow mist clouded my vision and when it cleared, I saw Gunnhild apart of a group of some of Lagertha's old shieldmaidens. They had a makeshift camp somewhere in the forest; there was a mountain somewhere behind them. I squinted at the mountain and felt a jolt when I recognized it.

Wherever Halfdan was, I didn't get to see it. The jolt of recognition was enough to throw me out of the vision and when I opened my eyes again, I was laying down on the floor with Thora and Hvitserk both looking down at me.

"Are you back, Runa?" Thora asked calmly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hvitserk snapped, grabbing my hands and pulling me up into a sitting position. I waved him away and glanced at the fire; the flames had gone back to normal leaving a faint aroma behind.

"I know where some of Bjorn's followers are." I said, rubbing my nose and trying to clear the thick scent from my nostrils. "And Bjorn and his family are alive. They're somewhere beyond the mountains, weeks away from us."

Hvitserk stared at me with confusion and he looked to Thora. "You saw them?"

I nodded. "I got some of the Seer's stuff from Freydis right before he died." My voice sounded thick and I could have been drunk. I sneezed a total of four times before my head felt clear again. "I'm fine, Hvitserk. Honest."

Hvitserk glanced at Thora and they seemed to have a full silent conversation without speaking. Thora drew herself up and said, "I'd never let my friend get hurt, Hvitserk." Her voice was firm and it felt like they were talking about something else entirely.

Hvitserk sighed and let it go, dropping her gaze to start looking through the Seer's supplies. "Be careful not to let Ivar see that. He'd lose his mind if he walked in and you were laid out like that and seizing."

"I was seizing?" I asked Thora with my eyebrows raised.

She shrugged. "You did that last time too. It's why Berglijot freaked out. It does look kind of scary if you don't know what's happening." Hvitserk snorted as if she was understating it. I hadn't thought about what was happening to me while the visions were happening.

"I'm sorry you saw that, Hvitserk." I said. He nodded without looking at me and I reached out and patted his shoulder. Hvitserk seemed to relax and he sat down, still looking troubled. "Where is Ivar? I need to tell him about the supporters."

Hvitserk scratched at his braids. "He might be at Ubbe's house. That Christian priest has been tasked with helping build it."

Ivar would delight in making Heahmund's life miserable. I thanked Hvitserk and left him and Thora by the hearth. The moment I entered my room, I heard the two of them begin to whisper. I thought about the secret that bound them together and I desperately wished they could solve everything out themselves, and with the father.

Bjomolf was waking up when I entered and the sight of his mismatched eyes made me smile wide. Bjomolf's own smile stretched across his face. I dismissed Cateline the Frankish thrall and took care of Bjomolf's dirty undergarments myself. When he was clean and freshly fed, I wrapped him to my back and left the Great Hall. Hvitserk and Thora were still at the hearth as I passed, their heads bent in a private conversation.

Bjomolf was in a position so that he could peek out right over my shoulder, and every now and then he'd make small noises of wonderment as he peered around Kattegat. He didn't really get to see the whole city, I was nervous just in case, and Ivar followed my lead. Whenever I felt nervous about taking Bjomolf around, Ivar immediately jumped on that opinion, trusting my instincts with our child. But right now, the air felt lighter and the world felt smaller, and I knew Bjomolf would be safe with me right now.

Ubbe's new house was being built outside the city walls, and when it's finished, it'll have enough space for a garden. It's like Ubbe wanted a tiny little farm right beside Kattegat. There were other houses being built out here too, for new families who want to stretch their legs for a change.

Ubbe's house was still months away from being finished, and the thralls were working hard on getting it underway. I quickly spotted Heahmund, sweating through his shirt and helping three other thralls lift the lumber needed for the house. The lumber being used were bits of old longships and newly cut down trees, and the scent of pine and salted wood filled the air as Bjomolf and I got closer to the construction sites.

Ivar was there, sitting on a tree stump near the site, watching Heahmund work with narrowed eyes. I glanced around and couldn't find Ubbe anywhere. Bjomolf made an excited squeal and Ivar turned around, his eyes catching us and lighting up.

"Good afternoon, Augusta." Ivar greeted, sounding genuinely playful. "Everything alright?"

"Quite," I replied, nudging him over and sitting down beside him with a plop. Bjomolf reached out a tiny hand and grabbed ahold of Ivar's coat sleeve. I quickly explained the powders and what I saw in the visions.

Ivar had listened in silence and now he was staring at me hungrily. "Augusta, you're a-" He cut himself off by grabbing my face and kissing me hard. When he let me go, he was smiling wide, not unlike Bjomolf just a few minutes ago. "We will find them."

He was so excited to go and capture Gunnhild's group nearby, he wobbled to his feet and we walked back from the site to inside the city. As we left, I glanced over my shoulder and found Heahmund watching us go, his icy eyes narrowed.

"I never thought I'd get used to seeing him around." I said dryly. Ivar had to stop walking in order to glance at him too. He snorted and we began walking again. "I mean, I honestly thought he'd be dead by now."

"He's more useful alive than dead." Ivar replied. "At least we can get some labor out of him. Ubbe gets his house out of him." He chuckled slightly and I smirked as well. Bjomolf let out a small shriek, as if chiming in with his own opinion. Ivar looked back to Bjomolf and said, "That's right, Bjomolf."

I chuckled at the way Ivar spoke to him. My husband had a habit of talking to Bjomolf like he was already an adult, and it never failed to amuse me. Whenever Bjomolf made a noise of any kind, Ivar would respond in kind.

Ivar himself led the hunt as they left around dusk. All three of Ragnar's sons left to go find Gunnhild and the group she was with. For six days, Kattegat went about its day to day business. And then they came back and it was like a spark had ignited through the streets.

The whole group wasn't brought back, and I assumed that either a couple got away or were already killed. But Gunnhild was alive, and she was the first one being dragged into Kattegat, Ubbe holding her with an iron grip around her upper arms. I spotted a long scar going down the right side of Ubbe's face, dangerously close to his eye. It looked like quite the fight had happened.

As they were put in cells, I began to hear loud whispers around me. Not natural whispers, but whispers that were magnified somehow.

 _They say she led them there...I heard she was possessed...She's a witch just like Aslaug...The new Seer...How did she know?..._

These were whispers being said about me. Around Kattegat. I paused in walking to the Great Hall and looked around the people of Kattegat surrounding me. Most of them were cheering for the party that went and took Gunnhild's group. But there were some that were glancing at me with what? Admiration? Nervousness? Outright fear? I didn't know.

A figure in the crowd caught my eye and this time it didn't take me long to recognize her. Aslaug was watching me curiously from the edge of the crowd and she looked different from the last time I saw her. Her face was clear of powder or kohl, and her dress looked simpler than a queen's dress. She turned her back on me and began walking away.

With a tight jaw, I went after her with Bjomolf wrapped to my back. Could he see her too? I followed after Aslaug, wondering what she wanted to say. If she had only wanted to be seen, then all she had to do was disappear.

Aslaug moved steadily to the shore where there wasn't a crowd. She stopped at the edge of the water and I noticed that she wasn't really touching the ground. I walked until I stood right beside her and Bjomolf cooed down at the water.

"You hear what they're saying about you?" Aslaug asked, her voice sounding far away, even though she was standing right beside me. "They think you're a witch. Or the new Seer sent by the gods."

"I'm not that." I said mildly and Aslaug snorted.

"You're right, you're not." Aslaug agreed. "But if you want to keep them from burning you at the stake you might want to make them think you are."

"I'm sorry, but I thought hunting down Bjorn's supporters was a good thing." I retorted.

Aslaug didn't answer, just stared at the water. "It was. I don't care that much about you, Augusta of Wessex. But I care about my sons. And I know Ivar would burn this city to the ground rather than let you die. Don't get killed for his sake."

"I don't plan on it." I whispered. Bjomolf finally looked up and looked right through Aslaug, and I knew that he couldn't see her. Aslaug stared at him, a sad smile on her face and she gently reached out, her fingers passing through his cheek. Bjomolf shuddered and buried his face into the back of my shoulder. Aslaug's face got sadder.

"I always wanted grandchildren," She whispered and dropped her hand. "I've seen Sigurd's son. That boy will grow up to be a king one day. I've seen it. And this one…" She drifted off, gazing at Bjomolf with love in her gaze. "He will do good things someday, Augusta of Wessex. As will the others." I barely had time to register the word 'others' when she suddenly looked to me, her face suddenly serious. "Do you love my sons?"

I turned and faced her head on. "With all my heart." I said without hesitation, knowing it was true.

Aslaug nodded, looking distracted. "Good."

There was a sudden gust of wind and before I could question Aslaug about what she meant, she was gone and taken by the wind. I sighed heavily and stared out at the bay as if it could answer everything bouncing around in my head.


	60. 60: Cruel Summer

The trial of Gunnhild and the other men went by fast. They still loved Bjorn and wanted him and his family back in power. When the brothers questioned them, they remained firm that they didn't know where Bjorn was. Because of me, they knew that they were in a village in the mountains, but there were still no specifics.

When it was time for the execution, Ivar decided that burning was a good enough punishment. It was a community event, I thought darkly as citizens of Kattegat gathered around to watch the traitors burn. Thora skipped the burning, afraid of the smell of burning flesh (a lesson she learned when Lagertha burned the Seer), but Siggy was mandatory to come by order of the Ragnarssons. Just in case she ever got the idea of betraying them for her father, they told me. I thought this was counterproductive; Siggy had done nothing in the last five months that would indicate a betrayal was coming.

I let her stand beside me in case she needed any kind of comfort. Siggy watched the burning with a face made of stone, but she did grab my hand like a shackle and squeezed it so hard her fingernails dug so deep into my skin it drew blood.

As spring melted by, I remembered something King Ecbert once spoke about at length during a family supper. He had in truth been speaking directly to Athelred, trying to prepare him for ruling and what to expect. But I had been sitting at the far end of the table, listening to my father's loud voice and taking in every word.

"Peace time is dangerous for men in high places," King Ecbert had said. "Men need conflict, need war. Otherwise they sit and brew and think about everything else they could be doing. Peace time leads to men making rash decisions in order to find conflict if none arises."

Nothing rang more true than that peaceful springtime. Ubbe kept throwing him into his house building, Hvitserk was gone most of the time due to avoiding the secret, and Ivar was so restless it seemed like he had ants crawling over his skin. When this happened, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to fuck me.

"Bjomolf needs a brother," Ivar would growl into the back of my bare neck in bed. "Let me put another son in you."

When Ivar came inside me, he smiled wolfishly and whispered into my skin that he loved me. I smiled at him being happy but knew I wasn't ready for another pregnancy. The last one ended so traumatically and painfully that the idea of giving birth again was enough to give me pause.

But then I'd see Ivar laying on the bed with Bjomolf facing him and watch Ivar play with Bjomolf's toes and I was always tempted to change my mind then and there.

As the summer went on, Thora and Ascrida both explained what the midsummer festivities were. For a couple of days during the middle of summer, women would dance for the blessing of Freyja so that they could become fertile.

"And when you put flowers under your pillow at night," Thora explained the night before the festivities. "You would dream of your future husband." She laughed. "I used to try that every night back when I was a young girl."

I laughed too. "It sounds like something I'd do too. Though we were just supposed to pray to God and maybe he'll tell you. It's a lot more vague than dreaming of husbands."

Along with the actual dancing of women for fertility, I also apparently have a role to play beforehand. Aslaug used to wish the women luck and the Seer would run lamb's blood over their faces to let Freyja know that they were looking for her blessing. Seeing as I was both the queen and supposed new Seer, I had to do both tasks.

The day of the festivities was bright and sunny, and it was pretty warm. I woke up and stretched in front of Ivar, smiling at the warmth that was already soaking the room. "It's been so long since I've been this warm." I said, smiling at Ivar.

He smirked at me from the bed. "Get back over here and I'll make you warmer."

I felt my face blush and I giggled. "Really? That's such a tempting invitation."

Bjomolf let out a sharp cry from his bed, awake and demanding attention already. I looked from my son to my husband, where Ivar's smirk was still on his face. I pointed at him. "Maybe later when our child isn't awake and watching."

Ivar let out a dramatic sigh. "Very well. But let's not keep it off for too long."

I waved a hand at him as I went to grab Bjomolf. "It'll get cold again soon; you can keep me warm whenever." Ivar chuckled from the bed and started getting dressed while I cleaned Bjomolf and got him ready for the day too.

The dress I wore had specific runes and patterns sewn into the hem. Every woman participating in the dance around the maypole wore bright white, and spent a lot of the morning braiding flowers into their hair.

Margrethe was one of those women, and her pale blond hair shone brightly and the yellow wildflowers seemed to disappear in her pale hair. Ubbe was in charge of taking care of Ragnvald for the day, and the little boys hair shone just as brightly as his mother's.

Magnus came to sit with us before the dance started, bringing with him a blanket that he spread on the grassy ground. Ragnvald and Bjomolf rested on the blanket with Hvitserk, who laid himself down on his stomach and let the two eight month old babies pull on his braids and lean heavily against his back and shoulders.

Thora sat with Magnus and Una, watching Hvitserk play with the babies with a thoughtful expression that seemed more closed off than usual. She had gotten rounder in these last three months, and with it more withdrawn. She and Hvitserk now spent a lot of time together, and I'd often find them sitting on the beach together. I never interrupted these moments; it always looked like something that was private.

Among the women dancing were Margrethe, Ascrida, and Kari. When I asked Siggy if she was going to dance for fertility from Freyja, the younger girl had laughed harshly and said, "The last thing I want is a husband, Runa."

I stood in front of the maypole, looking up at the sheer height of it. The women who were participating hurried over to stand in front of me in a row, some of them looked to be as young as thirteen. Some of them were dancing for the first time, while others were already married and wishing for another baby.

A priestess of Freyja joined me with a large blood of fresh lamb blood (the slaughter had happened just five minutes ago a few feet away). I held a sprig of hemlock and dipped it into the blood. It clung to the leaves and dripped down thickly back into the bowl.

I turned to the first girl, a fourteen year old girl with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes who looked very excited. I smiled comfortingly at her and waved the sprig towards her. Her eyes shut right as the dark red blood was flicked onto her face, splattering across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

"May the goddess grant you what you wish," I said, flicking more blood onto the girl's pure white dress this time. "Dance for fertility, dance for strength, dance for Freyja." And with that, the girl stepped out of line and took a spot beside the pole. I dipped the sprig back into the blood and began the same process for the next girl.

Ascrida beamed at me when it was her turn, her bright red hair catching some of the lamb's blood. Kari was immediately next, and I couldn't help but notice that she glanced over to Magnus when I recited the words. I smirked to myself as Kari left to take her place.

When Margrethe came along, she was barely holding back excitement. I recited the words and flicked blood onto her face and dress and Margrethe practically ran to the pole. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of my friends and family sitting down. Thora was still there; she was watching Margrethe go with...sadness?

I finished the last girl and thanked the priestess for her help before going to sit beside Ivar. The women around the pole grabbed hands and glanced to Ivar, waiting for his mark. Ivar slowly looked to the men with the drums and nodded deeply, and the drums started fast.

"So they dance for how long?" I asked Ivar the moment the women started their dance around the maypole.

"Until they can't dance anymore." Ivar replied. He leaned back and pressed his arm against mine. "These used to be so boring when I was young. But Mother insisted we always attend for the whole time."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "I assume you can't really leave halfway through now that you're king."

Ivar paused and then groaned slightly. "You're right! Oh, Augusta at least I have you here now."

I smiled at that. "At least you have that." I looked over to the blanket where Bjomolf was laying down right beside Hvitserk. Ragnvald was sitting down with his back leaning back against Hvitserk's side. Thora was sitting at the edge of the blanket near Ragnvald, and she was smiling at him as he reached out and kept grabbing onto her fingers. Beside her, Magnus was watching the dancing with wide eyes, and I could've sworn that he was trying to keep up with Kari as she danced.

The whole scene was idyllic and serene and I couldn't help but remember what my life was just a year ago when we first landed in Vestfold. I looked back to Bjomolf where he was laying beside Hvitserk. Bjomolf has a fistful of grass in his hand, and Hvitserk was watching over him and trying to braid the pieces of grass together.

"Uh oh," Ubbe said as he approached the sitting area. The first girl had fallen, and the others were jumping over her and trying to dance around her. I recognized the fourteen year old girl who had been first to receive the lambs blood and I clapped politely as she got up and left the dancing, looking downcast. She glanced up at me as she passed and I smiled sympathetically and nodded. She brightened slightly and trotted back to where her family were waiting for her.

Ubbe had watched the whole exchange and he poked my shoulder. "You're doing good at this. People around here love their new queen."

I smiled up at him. "Thank you, Ubbe. That means a lot."

Ubbe smiled at me and laid down beside Hvitserk, scooping Ragnvald out of the way and blowing a raspberry onto his son's chubby neck. Ragnvald let out a loud screech of delight and sudden movement from the dancers let us know that someone else tripped.

Margrethe got up from her fall with a huff. Ivar clapped his hands once and Margrethe shot him a dirty look as she passed. Ubbe rolled up, bringing Ragnvald with him. He smiled at his wife as he approached her, Ragnvald pressed into his chest.

"It's alright, my love," Ubbe said, just loud enough to be heard. "I'm sure Freyja knows how much you want a second son." With one hand he held their son, and the other hand held Margrethe's face and tilted it up so that he could kiss her.

There was a sharp inhale, like from a wounded animal. I glanced over along with Ivar and Hvitserk and saw that Thora was getting up in a hurry, her round belly stopping her from moving as fast.

"Thora," Hvitserk started. But she was up and gone, hurrying back towards the city without meeting anyone's eyes. Ivar watched her go, his brow furrowed with curiosity. Hvitserk and I accidentally made eye contact and his mouth became a thin line and he sighed heavily. I looked from him to where Ubbe was watching Thora leave, looking blocked off. Margrethe seemed like she didn't notice.

Realization hit and I stood up, catching Hvitserk's eye again. He sat up and straightened, picking Bjomolf up as he went. "You're going to talk to her?" He asked quietly.

"I'll get her." I whispered back. I rubbed Ivar's arm really briefly before heading after Thora.

She was at the house she shared with her family, and I walked into the back of the house to where Thora's bedroom was.

Thora was laying on her side in her bed, curled up around her swollen belly. I slowly approached the bed, closing the door behind me. Thora didn't respond to my footsteps. I sighed, "Ubbe is the father, isn't he?" I breathed.

A small sob escaped her as an answer and Thora whimpered as she curled up around herself more. "I wasn't supposed to get pregnant."

"Can I sit with you, Thora?" I asked softly. When she didn't respond with a no, I laid down on the bed beside her, resting on my back. Thora didn't move. I laid there for a long time, not wanting to force Thora into a confession right now.

"I hadn't known about Margrethe," Thora admitted in a whisper several minutes later. "We were drunk and then…" She drifted off and another sob ripped through her body. "Hvitserk walked in on us the second time we…"

I closed my eyes and heaved another sigh. I thought about the sight Thora had just witnessed. Margrethe receiving a blessing to get pregnant, Ubbe had kissed her lovingly with their young son in his arms. I tried to imagine a similar situation for myself, if I couldn't marry Ivar, if he had married some Northern girl and they seemed happy...I could imagine the hole in my chest and glanced at Thora's back.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through, Thora." I said softly. "Do you love him?"

Thora rolled over and faced me. "I don't think so. It's just...he was so kind whenever we were together. I had never felt like that before, Runa. I didn't expect it to hurt so much when I saw him with Margrethe but, when I saw them together it just reminded me that I wasn't anything but a temporary woman to warm his bed for a few nights."

More tears filled her eyes and she scooted closer, wrapping me into a hug and I hugged her back. As Thora cried into my shoulder, I heard her say, "And now I have a baby and I'm so scared, Runa. I've been telling myself it's okay but it's not and I'm...I'm…"

I squeezed her closer as she broke herself off completely and cried some more. I thought about all the times I saw her and Hvitserk talking quietly. "Hvitserk's been a good friend during all this, hasn't he?"

Thora nodded, not saying anything and she continued hugging me and crying into my shoulder until she ran out of tears. When she was finished, we sat up and remained sitting in the bed for several minutes. We were still sitting very close and I was able to feel the baby in her belly kick.

We looked down at her belly and I struggled to imagine that it was another child of Ubbe's in there. Thora placed a hand on her belly and smiled softly. "I love this baby." She said gently.

"Are you thinking of names?" I asked.

Thora nodded. "I want to name them after my mother if it's a girl. I don't know about a boy yet."

I thought about it for a moment. "Hanna Thorasdottir. I like that; it sounds nice."

Thora looked comforted by the sound of her name being used for the family name. Even if Ubbe had nothing to do with the baby, Thora was going to be a great mother to this baby. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled my friend in for what I hoped was a comforting hug. It worked, I guess, because Thora hugged me back and we stayed like that for a long moment while outside the midsummer festivities continued on.


End file.
